


Lavandula

by fenfyre (Jace)



Series: The Adventures of a Witch and his two Werewolf Mates [2]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Angst, Bathing Ritual, Biting, Bonding Sex, Branding, Divination, Faeries - Freeform, Kitsune!Mikasa, M/M, Magic AU, Magical Creatures, Rituals, Samhain Sabbath, Scarring, Tarot, Threesome, Werewolf!Marco, Werewolves, Witchcraft, banishing, binding, heat - Freeform, werewolf!eren, witch!jean
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-27
Updated: 2018-09-28
Packaged: 2018-10-11 17:23:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 22,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10470210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jace/pseuds/fenfyre
Summary: Lavender is a tender-smelling herb that is used to bring love, peace and happiness. For many witches it is the first pick in spells ranging from friendship to romance and everything in between.~A collection of Turnera Diffusa Sidepieces





	1. Fucking Faeries

It wasn’t like it had started just yesterday. Jean had been noticing the clear chime of tiny bells and the odd whiff of a violet scented breeze all throughout summer, when he was tending to his herb garden in the evenings or tried his mother’s recipes on lazy Sunday afternoons. Always during quiet moments spent honing his craft.  
Maybe it was the focus that attracted them. Or maybe it was the rosemary and thyme and verbena in his garden. There were few plants those little devils didn’t fancy, after all. If he started to get rid of everything that lured them in he might as well give up the cottage and move back into the city. 

So yes, Jean should have been prepared for this, especially with the tell-tale signs. And yet he’d been irrationally annoyed coming across the various patches of four leaved clovers all over his lawn.  
The circle of mushrooms in the back by the apple trees had been fine and well. It had been there from the start and as long as Jean was careful not to disturb it he never had any problems. Not like the circle increasing or multiplying. Like the damn clovers.  
But it wasn’t until things started disappearing, until he would reach for a vial of oil or a candle or a bundle of herbs and find his fingers grasping air instead, an amused, airy giggle wafting through the room, that Jean could finally admit it. He had a faerie problem. Not a small one, either.

That’s how he found himself rummaging through his sunlit kitchen on a Saturday morning. One way to identify a true witch household, he thought after searching for at least fifteen minutes, was if it turned out to be way easier to find a handful of thimbles than some cream. His magical supplies were in fact way better sorted and labelled than his more mundane cooking stock.  
After another few minutes he managed to retrieve a small can from the depths of his cupboards and slammed the door shut with a victorious little noise. That should be enough.  
He had just poked a hole into the sturdy metal lid and was pouring some of the heavy cream into one of the thimbles, when a soft knock made him jump. He spilled cream everywhere.

“Holy shit … are you fucking … Marco”, his rant was cut off before it even started when he looked up to see who dared disturb him. The werewolf was standing in the open doorway to the garden, knuckles of one hand still resting against the wood, face concerned as he regarded the mess Jean had made of the kitchen table.  
“You uhh … you said you’d drop by on … Saturday? Oh shit, it’s Saturday!” 

It had been two weeks since the … incident. Two more to go until they could attempt to break the spell binding Eren to Jean. The wait turned out not to be as tedious as Jean had feared, though. The two werewolves had taken to visiting him every other day. Mostly because it seemed to have effects on both Eren and Jean when they were apart for too long.  
The first few weeks after a binding were the most frail, the most prone to negative influence, after all. Most spells were designed in a way to maintain a certain closeness during that period, the one Jean had used no exception. It came with a few more conditions and regulations, ones they had figured out pretty soon after their first … encounter.  
But it was nothing that couldn’t be kept under control with frequent visits and a sigil or two. Among other things. They hadn’t stopped having crazy sex, for example. Another point that made the wait for the next full moon way more pleasant than initially expected.

“It’s Saturday”, Marco laughed, stepping into the kitchen with confident ease. “What are you doing there?” Jean looked back down at his cream drenched kitchen table and turned to get a cloth, wiping up the mess he’d made.  
“I’m having a faerie problem”, he explained, then attempted to fill the thimble again, this time successfully. “Been having it for a while, actually. Time to deal with it.”  
“So you’re … casting a spell to get rid of them?” There it was, that curious tone Marco’s voice took on when he had the chance to ask Jean about his craft. It was adorable. The way he tried to take everything he could get when it came to spells and books and ingredients, anything magic, really.

“No way man”, Jean laughed and shook his head, unscrewing the lid from the honey and scooping out a generous spoonful he started dribbling into another thimble. “You don’t get rid of faeries. Not if you don’t have a death wish. You make peace with them and hope they stop bothering you as much. This is an offering”, he explained, gesturing to the clutter across his table. “Gonna put it out and pray that’s enough to make them happy.” Marco made a soft noise and watched Jean pour water from a vial into the last unoccupied thimble.

“Is that just water?”  
“Blessed spring water, actually. It’s said clean water is enough but I’m not taking any chances with these little devils. Fucking hate faeries…”  
“Better not let them hear that, then”, Marco chuckled as Jean arranged his offerings on a small plate and reached into a glass jar to scatter a handful of small, shiny beads around them.  
Then there it was again, that high little giggle, the smell of violets. Out of the corner of his eye Jean saw a strand of Marco’s hair move as if it had been tugged on once, twice. Then another strand and another. And then it quieted down again. Fucking faeries.

“I think they like you”, Jean hummed offhandedly, reaching for the plate to carry it outside. He had been prepared for the happy twinkle in Marco’s eyes, the broad smile and the “What, really?” The thing Jean still had to get used to, though, was the way warmth seeped into his chest as he watched the werewolf’s face light up with excitement.  
Sighing softly he placed the plate on the windowsill. Just moments later he spotted Eren lounging in the grass close to the apple trees, looking up at a raven perched on one of the branches. Jean’s heart gave a joyful throb. Maybe he was in too deep. One way to deal with it for now.

“Hey!”, he shouted, starting to make his way over to the apple trees. “You better leave that faerie circle alone or so help me I’m gonna kick your ass!” Marco’s laugh behind him was light and gorgeous.  
Yes. So, so deep…


	2. Family Gatherings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also posted on my tumblr: [fenfyre](https://fenfyre.tumblr.com/)

It was barely past six when Jean heard the gate open, rusty hinges creaking in the silent darkness of his garden.  
“You’re early”, he called out, knowing exactly who the intruders were without even looking over his shoulder. He’d grown remarkably sensitive to their energy patterns over the last year. Eren’s heated, unsteady coil, Marco’s soothing sway, their very distinctive smells and how they tended to mingle together…   
“Well, someone couldn’t wait”, Eren answered, grin apparent in his voice as the two of them made their way over to him. Jean finished arranging the orange tablecloth before turning to greet them.   
With the candles and jack o'lanterns still unlit and the only source of light being the windows of the cottage shining over at them, the werewolves’ faces were cast in shadows. Marco’s excitement was still very much apparent in the way he kissed Jean enthusiastically.

“Thank you for inviting us”, he beamed, nuzzling his face against Jean’s neck before pulling away and gesturing at himself. “I hope this is okay, I wasn’t sure about what to wear, I don’t want to be disrespectful or anything…”  
“In case you didn’t notice”, Eren laughed, pressing a fleeting kiss to Jean’s cheek. “He’s nervous.” Jean hummed thoughtfully, cupping a heated cheek with his hand as he let his eyes glide down Marco’s body, clad in well-fitting dress pants and a nice button-down.

“You look great. I told you, anything black goes. Some of the others are gonna wear cloaks … but don’t worry, that’s their thing and not all of us are that traditional”, Jean quickly added when he saw Marco biting his lip with nerves. “Also you’re guests, no one’s gonna give you shit for not knowing about all the rituals or etiquette. As long as you’re not total dicks you’ll be fine.” He felt the subtle movement of Marco’s jaw against his fingers as the werewolf swallowed, then nodded.   
Maybe he should have laid off with the explanation about how this was the most important day of the year for witches and how exciting and special it was for his coven to invite them along to celebrate with them.   
Well, technically it had just been his mother pushing him to invite them. But no one in the coven would dare to show anything but hospitality towards guests of the headwitch.   
Even if it had been unheard of to invite werewolves to coven meetings before. A year ago it had also been unheard of for a witch to date a werewolf. Or two. Times were changing, mostly for the better.  
“Alright…”, Marco hummed, turning his head to press a kiss into Jean’s palm before looking over at the altar under construction. “Can I help you with that?”

They took a while to decorate the altar, mostly because Marco asked about every piece and the symbolism behind it, what the difference between one arrangement and the other was and how the meaning and intent would change if he were to exchange candles or pieces of fruit or utensils. All the while Eren was watching them with amusement curling his lips.  
“So the plate of food is an offering but you’ll be using the apple and the pomegranate during the ritual?”, Marco asked, skilfully arranging fruit, vegetables and bread on a plate and placing it between the two candles, silver and gold, they had arranged at the top of the altar earlier.  
“Yes, so they don’t go on the plate but in the middle of the altar together with the athame.” Jean placed the fruits and the ritual knife on a white cloth embroidered with a pentagram, then arranged a handful of decorative items like autumn leaves and tiny pumpkins on the altar.

“Now we can add the mementos. Did you bring yours?” Both his guests nodded. Marco was the first to pull a beautiful golden pen out of his pocket, a filigree engraving in a foreign language glinting in what little light there was.  
“It was my grandma's”, Marco explained as he carefully placed the item on the altar, voice low and smooth. “I think it’s charmed, the ink never runs out.”  
“One of my siblings might want to take a look at that”, Jean hummed, contemplating if he should even mention the charmed pen to Hanji. But then again the charm had to be especially potent to last that long, maybe finding out how it had been cast would help them in their craft. Before he could make a decision Eren joined them at the altar, lifting a long necklace over his head. What looked to be an ornate brass key dangling from the end.  
“My dad's”, he simply said, slowly lowering it onto the altar. If his voice sounded somewhat brittle neither of them commented on it. Instead Jean cleared his throat and nodded.  
“The candleholders are my aunt’s and mum is gonna bring one for my father so we’re set. I already swept and cleansed so just let me draw the circle.”

 

About an hour later they had lit all the candles and jack o'lanterns, casting the ritual sight in warm, flickering light. As if having waited for that signal the members of his coven started trickling in, beginning with his mother.  
“My, Jeanbo. This looks beautiful!”, she exclaimed as she entered the garden, hugging him tightly and pressing a kiss to his forehead. “So festive, I’m proud of you.”  
“’s nothing…”, he mumbled, though the light blush on his cheeks was probably betraying his elation at his mother’s praise. This was, after all, the first year he was hosting the Samhain Sabbat ritual on his own and he’d been especially meticulous while following the instructions.  
“Marco, love, it’s so good to see you again. And you of course, Eren!” The blush on Jean’s cheeks darkened as he watched his mother greet them the same way she had him, with a crushing hug and a kiss to the forehead, even though she had to tug Marco’s face down to her. Maybe this had been a good idea after all.  
“The pleasure is all mine, Mrs. Kirschtein”, Marco smiled warmly, always the charmer, and continued to engage her in a conversation about her traditional black gown and the cloak she was wearing.

Shortly Hanji and Levi arrived as well, both wrapped in dark cloaks.  
“I can’t believe you didn’t fuck it up”, Levi hummed as he looked at the ritual site, easily dodging Hanji’s elbow.  
“Nice to see you too, Levi…”  
“Oh this place always had it’s very own magic! Auntie Liliane knew how to host the best sabbats, looks like you’re continuing the tradition!”, Hanji cried out, excitedly looking around until their eyes fell on Eren who was standing a bit to side. “And you! You must be … Eren, is it? The shorter one? Finally we meet!” They bounded over to him, enthusiastically shaking his hand.  
“I’m Hanji, I’m the coven’s priest. Oh I’ve been begging Jean to let me see you, I love werewolves, you’re so interesting! Could you maybe…” They gestured to his mouth and Eren, utterly shell-shocked after being hit with the full dose of Hanji-enthusiasm, opened up without so much as a second of hesitation. “They look so … normal! I mean, I guess they would, new moon just passed … do they change during the cycle? I always thought they might but I couldn’t find anything on it. Could we maybe move over to the light? I’d love to take a closer – ”  
Levi sighed and rolled his eyes dramatically before stepping over to punch the excited priest’s arm. “Let the kid breathe, will you?”

Jean was about to join in as well, not quite comfortable leaving Eren alone with the two of them. But before he could move someone jumped him.  
“Jean!”, Sasha shrieked, her wiry little arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders, knees digging into his sides. He swayed a little under her weight but soon found his balance again, gripping her legs so she wouldn’t just topple off his back. “It’s been ages! Ah, I guess that’s my fault for moving away but damn it’s so good to see you, nerd! And my you’re all grown up, is it true you kept those two werewolves? Naughty boy…”, she teased, then wiggled a little and he let her jump back down. She looked pretty in her short black dress, hair pinned up elegantly.  
“Aren’t you cold?”, he smiled. It was late October, after all.  
“Nothing like a heating charm to save the style”, she quipped, then looked around. “So, I heard your weres are here tonight? Are they gonna take part?” 

Jean just shrugged, easily falling back into their old dynamic. He’d known Sasha since he could barely walk and little more than a year of separation wasn’t enough to make him less comfortable around her.  
“I guess, if they want to. The guy talking to my mum is Marco.” He pointed over at them, still talking animatedly. “He’s sweet but don’t piss him off. You piss him off by fucking with Eren, the one getting tortured by Hanji and Levi right now.” The three actually had moved closer to a light source, Hanji now inspecting Eren’s fingernails. But he didn’t seem too scared anymore, laughing along to Levi’s dry commentary instead. “And they’re both mine so back off”, Jean added, mostly joking.  
“So greedy! Oh but don’t you worry, Jeanbo. I got my own thing going on back home”, Sasha hummed, grinning up at him. 

Before he could ask more about the poor soul she’d lured in, the rusty gate creaked one more time as their last member arrived, dressed sharply in a black suit.  
“Ymir!”, Sasha called out, hopping over to hug her as well, even if she didn’t jump her as enthusiastically as she had Jean.  
Jean simply waved and got a wave in return before moving over to the cottage to get the supplies they’d need, now that they were complete. 

 

“How do you enter the Circle?”, Jean asked, voice firm and sure. Even though he’d never lead a ritual like this before, as host it was his responsibility and he wouldn’t run from it. He’d practised enough to know all the chants and calls and invocations in his sleep so the nervousness was nothing but a light flutter in his chest by the time he picked up the cup of protection oil.  
“In perfect love and perfect trust”, his mother answered evenly, dipping her fingers into the bowl of salt water Hanji held up for her, before striding through between the two bowls filled with smouldering frankincense to have her wrists anointed with the oil by Jean.

They continued like this for every member of the coven as well as the two guests, Marco still unsure but excited, Eren surprisingly calm.  
As soon as they were all assembled in the circle, Jean took a moment to contemplate. The last year had brought lots of change to his life but just as much had stayed steady, a firm base for him to fall back on, to hold him up. Here he stood now, surrounded by the people most dear to him, ones he’d known for ages, others that had come whirling into his life in the most unexpected of ways. He had lots to be thankful for this year.   
It was time he gave thanks for what he had been allowed to experience and joyfully look into the future as he was shedding the old and greeting the new. Taking one last, deep breath he began his callings to cast the circle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took inspiration from [this description of a coven ritual for Samhain](http://www.wiccanway.com/Samhain-Ritual-Guide-For-Covens_c_199.html)


	3. Banished Bindings

“I don’t understand…”, Jean’s mother murmured, tracing the crest etched into the skin under Eren’s collarbone with a careful fingertip. The light of the full moon and the flickering candles around them illuminated the frown on her round, kind face.  
“Maybe it takes some time to disappear?”, Marco offered, sounding way calmer than he probably was, one of his arms curled protectively around Eren’s waist. “Do you feel different?” Eren just shook his head, not even needing a moment to contemplate.  
“It’s still there”, he said and his voice sounded so brittle and scared it sent a painful sting through Jean’s chest. He was standing back, still in the circle they’d cast earlier in the evening during their meticulous preparations.  
  
His coven had come up with the plan to reverse his failed binding with a modified banishing ritual. It was rare though not unheard of that witches cut their ties to a familiar they’d chosen.  
Sometimes the bond didn’t manifest in a beneficial way or they found another familiar they felt an even stronger connection with. Sometimes the familiar went missing or died and after a mourning period the witch needed to sever the bond they’d formed and move on.  
And sometimes the familiar turned out to not be a common animal with an affinity for magic but a disgruntled werewolf with a protective mate. Jean had gathered first-hand experience of how well that scenario worked for everyone involved during the last month.  
  
In his defence, he’d done everything to fix his “little” mistake so he could send the two werewolves on their way and possibly never cross paths with them again. He’d subjected himself to his entire coven’s ridicule asking for help in this embarrassing matter, endured their teasing and snide remarks in exchange for sources and ideas. Had stayed awake night after night sifting through ancient books and the strangest parts of the internet to find a cure or another way to undo the mess he’d gotten them into.  
In the end he’d even asked his mother to assist him during the banishing. Less because she was his mother and more because she was the oldest and most powerful witch he’d ever known. Which only made her confused, clueless expression all the more terrifying.

“This doesn’t make any sense”, she mumbled before going through their preparations again, counting them on her fingers. “We have full moon energy. We thoroughly cleansed and grounded, we countered the bergamot, we toned down your inherent magic to minimize the chances for interference. We didn’t overcharge this time, I felt the spell being cast, it’s done. Why isn’t it working?”

Jean could only hear the growing frustration in her tone because he had years and years of experience. Her voice was still calm and analytical, obviously trying hard to not upset their guests who’d trusted her skills and experience to get them out of the mess Jean had created. He could only imagine how embarrassed she must be. If it was only a fraction of the shame and guilt he felt at that moment it was horrible.  
What if that was it? What if he couldn’t ever right the wrong he’d done?  
  
“We have intent”, his mother continued, grasping at straws by now though she was still doing her best to save face and appear in control. “You do want to break this bond, don’t you?”  
  
And just like that it appeared to Jean what the problem was. In the end it was his fault. Again. He’d gotten attached, way too attached over the month they’d spent together. Not just to Eren, his “familiar” and … _mate_ , but also to Marco. He liked them, even though he had truly no right to, after what he’d done to them. Yet here they were, disappointed and completely clueless as to what a pathetic, needy ass he was.  
But before he could so much as take a breath and own up to his ridiculous crush that, once again, ruined everything for all of them, Eren huffed a frustrated breath. He’d blanched, all colour drained from his handsome face that was eerily white under the moonlight, eyebrows furrowed and open mouth working around nothing.  
The next moment he turned around, stepped out of the circle and bolted off towards the edge of the garden. He jumped across the wooden fence with graceful ease and continued with inhuman speed into the darkness, soon melting into the shadows of the woods.  
  
Marco moved to follow him, leaving the circle with quick, sure steps. He only turned around to call an apology.  
“I’m sorry! Thank you so much Mrs. Kirschtein but I really need to…”  
“I know, go after him”, she said, still so calm and kind and watched Marco run off towards the woods. Then she turned to Jean and crossed her arms with a deep frown.  
“Jean Michel Kirschtein”, she hissed, composure crumbling away as her eyes narrowed. She used his second name. He was in deep shit now. “Don’t tell me I went through all that effort only for it to fail because you still haven’t learned to talk about your feelings.”  
There wasn’t much he could answer to that. It had been his fault. He was the one who’d dragged all of them into this and then set his own mother up for an embarrassing failure just because repressing his attraction had felt easier than facing it at that point.  
  
Guilt was gnawing on his lungs, making it hard to breathe, shame had hot blood rush into his cheeks and it hurt, god it hurt, but he didn’t know what to do. There was nothing left to try, he’d worked so hard only for everything to fail because of something he had no real control over. And as always when Jean saw himself in a dead end with no options left the fear bubbling up in his chest made him lash out.  
“And what was I supposed to do, mum?”, he spat, hands balling into fists at his sides. The candles around them flickered unevenly, flames rising higher like his temper, illuminating the cool night with their anxious dance. A light breeze whispered through his shaggy hair. “Ask them to stay? Yeah sure, like hell they would! I bound Eren against his will, I gave him a damn branding, alright? They have each other, they don’t need me to fuck up their lives. They never wanted anything to do with me!” His tone had grown louder until he was shouting, the wind around them picking up and raising scattered dry leaves into the air, rustling the dark silhouettes of the apple trees, swirling and swirling around their circle and only making the flames flicker brighter, breathing more life into them until the fire was licking up into the sky. Thin, tall flames burning bright around them.  
  
Until his mother uncrossed her arms and lowered her right hand, palm facing the ground, a stern expression on her face. The rush of wind around them died down until it was barely strong enough to rustle the drying leaves, flames shrinking down and steadying, burning peacefully.  
“Don’t you dare raise your voice at me, Jean. You’re not a child anymore”, she warned, pursing her lips and he swallowed. His reaction had been uncalled for, especially the pathetic loss of control, energy bleeding out of his pores and into the air.  
  
It took him another minute or two to calm down enough for his mother to pull back the tendrils of her control without the wind picking up and the candles starting to flicker again. This was his land after all, the elements here attuned to his energy and more easily ready to mirror his expression if he let them. His mother might be more powerful and able to force them to obey her instead but it must be indefinitely more exhausting.  
When he had gotten himself under control again he huffed a deep sigh and looked over at his mother who still didn’t look all too happy with him.  
“So it was you?”, she asked and sounded much kinder and patient already. He gave a jerky nod in return.  
  
“Think so. They’re … cute.” This time he was blushing for a whole other reason. It was hard enough to admit this to himself, let alone his nosy mother. But he guessed this concerned her almost as much as him and she deserved to know what had broken her expertly crafted banishing ritual.  
“Oh I never said they weren’t”, she smiled, expression softening as she made a step forward and took one of his hands in hers. “But Jeanbo, you must have known this would mess with a banishing, you know what tricky, invasive things emotions are. Especially when bonds are involved.”  
“I know”, he sighed, rolling his eyes at his own idiocy. “I didn’t think they were _emotions_ , I…” He trailed off, not sure how to explain himself, how to put into words how he felt and why he’d put it off for so long. At first he’d thought he was just horny for them and that had made so much sense. Their night together had been the best he’d ever had. But he’d missed the point where his feelings toward the two werewolves had evolved beyond satisfaction and physical appreciation and now he’d lost his chance to get them out of this mess.  
  
His mother nodded slowly, empathically.  
“I think you should go after them”, she said in a voice that was way too calm considering her suggestion and the look Jean gave her must have shown that.  
“They’re in the woods”, he frowned, incredulous. “It’s dark.”  
“You can find them”, his mother supplied, like it was the easiest task in the world. “You’re still bound to Eren and you’ve always been sensitive.”  
“I’m…” Jean just shook his head. That was true but… “It’s still full moon! What if the potion wears off?”  
“Hanji made the potion, it won’t wear off. And even if it does, they won’t attack you. Eren couldn’t hurt a mate.”  
“Marco isn’t bound to me.”  
“He isn’t.” At least his mother agreed with him on that. “But have you seen that boy? I bet he never hurt as much as a rabbit in his wolf form.”  
  
Another point that was hard to argue with. But still…  
“Listen, Jean”, his mother began anew and this time it was her no bullshit voice. “You need to resolve this now. Don’t let it fester. Tell them the truth and see how they react. We can always try again next month when you worked through this. But don’t make them wait for an explanation right now.”  
Jean swallowed. If his mother was so adamant on this he better follow her advice. She was the coven’s head witch for a reason, after all. No one in their right mind wanted to defy her intuition and orders.  
So he nodded at her, slowly, before checking that his phone was still in his pocket and stepping out of the circle.  


The woods behind his cottage were familiar to Jean. He took hikes sometimes on the weekends to clear his head and gather supplies that were easier found in the wild than grown in his garden. Between July and October he came out a lot to gather sweet blackberries from tall, wild bushes. He’d always loved doing that, even back when his aunt had been still alive and recruited him to help. They’d be out in the woods all day, gathering bowls and bowls of juicy berries that they’d turn into jam or eat with yoghurt and sometimes all on their own. Those days spent in the woods with his aunt were some of his fondest memories of childhood and he’d decided to keep the tradition alive this year, going out regularly to collect berries and stock up on endless jars of jam.  
  
Despite all his good memories and fondness for the woods Jean hadn’t ventured into them at night all too often. A few times for certain rituals or to harvest special ingredients. But mostly he kept his distance once the sun had set behind the treetops, plunging the world into darkness.  
It wasn’t that he was _afraid_. There was nothing here to be scared of, at least that’s what his aunt had always said. The woods weren’t deep enough for powerful, dangerous creatures to settle and even the faeries around here were, as annoying as they could be, far from vicious. There weren’t any bodies of water large enough to attract nymphs and the few spirits who had chosen the tiny streams as their home were benevolent and Jean was adamant about sacrificing to them regularly enough to stay on their good side. He never meddled in darker witchcraft, always cleansed thoroughly and prepared offerings for all his astral neighbours. There was nothing to fear.  
And yet entering the woods at night always left him with a sour feeling. Like he was intruding on something personal, forcing his way into an intimate moment he didn’t really have a place in. He felt like he was tolerated, not welcome like he was whenever he visited the woods during the day.  
  
The fact that he was trailing a couple of werewolves in the middle of a full moon night didn’t make his feelings of unease lighter. He understood his mother’s reasoning. They had both taken a potion earlier in the day that should suppress their urge to shift for this cycle. Mainly to make the banishing easier as casting magic on a werewolf was hard enough in their human form and near impossible when they’d shifted.  
Even if Eren and Marco did lose control and turned into their wolf form, they wouldn’t harm Jean. Eren couldn’t, their bond wouldn’t let him, alive and well as it still was. And Marco … there was nothing in this world that would convince Jean that man could ever hurt him. The sense of trust and tranquillity that Marco had given him during their first night together still set deeply in his chest.  
And yet all this knowledge and trust couldn’t keep his nerves from flaring higher with every step he took deeper into the woods. Just the thought of stepping around a tree and coming face to face with a snarling werewolf was enough to make his blood pressure spike, no matter that he could feel Eren perfectly and knew he had still a bit to walk until he’d find what he was looking for.

Eren’s energy was a bonfire in the darkness, a thundering pull that was calling for Jean, beckoning him closer. A helpless wail. Eren was deeply upset and Jean really couldn’t blame him.   
He’d promised the both of them he’d get them out of this, that they’d be good to go by tomorrow morning and could say their goodbyes. Instead he’d fucked up again and ruined their hope and their trust in him. All because he’d thought he could handle this stupid crush on his own but apparently he couldn’t even be trusted with his own damn feelings…

No.  
He was on his way to set this right. That was the sole reason he was stumbling through the underbrush with nothing but the dim flashlight of his phone and the pull of Eren’s bond to guide him.  
He’d explain this to them, and pray they’d forgive him and find enough trust in themselves to let him try and fix it. This time for real. Maybe it just needed a very adamant rejection to convince his stupid heart of what an idiotic idea this was. To fall for a pair of mated werewolves after he’d violently yanked one of them into a completely unjustifiable bond. Shit like that could only ever happen to him.  
  
Jean slowed down when he felt the tug of the bond get warmer, closer. He felt Eren’s proximity before he heard anything, let alone saw anyone. Jean still switched off the light as soon as he heard the first hints of Eren’s voice, breathless and upset. Rambling. He slowly stepped, not able to avoid all of the rustling leaves covering the ground but still slow enough as to not draw their attention just yet. Peeking over a row of thick bushes he caught glimpses of what could only be Eren and Marco. Their dark silhouettes only distinguishable in the darkness because they were both moving, the shorter one, Eren, was pacing while Marco stood to the side, shifting from one foot to the other.  
Jean ducked behind the bushes, crouching down and breathing a silent sigh. At least they were still in their human form. But he didn’t want to bust in there and risk changing that. So he stayed hidden, waiting for the right moment to get their attention.  
  
“This is so fucked up!”, Eren cursed, words echoing through the air that tasted of sweat and goosebumps on cold skin. “You know I only ever wanted you! I made you give up everything and this is how I fucking repay you? After how many decades?”  
Decades? The aggressive shouting made Jean curl up into a tiny ball of guilt but the last word had him frowning. Just how old were Eren and Marco? How long had they been mated? And exactly how much power was there still prickling under their skin that Jean hadn’t yet witnessed?  
“By letting the first best witch on a powertrip bind me?”  
Marco let out a soft noise and a soothing quality entered the feverish air.  
  
“I understand you’re upset”, he said, voice calm. “But you’re being unfair. To both him and yourself. It was an accident, no one’s fault.”  
“Like hell it was!”, Eren spat, voice trembling with rage. Jean bit his lip and carefully peeked around the bush. His eyes were getting more used to the darkness and he could make out the shape of the two werewolves. Marco had stopped Eren’s pacing and was holding one of his hands.  
“Maybe the damn spell was but not what we … and the whole…”, he trailed off and pulled his hand back, starting to pace again. The dry leaves on the forest floor crunched under his heavy footfalls. Somewhere in the woods, far to Jean’s right, an owl hooted softly.  
“I fucked up, Marco”, Eren mumbled as he pushed both palms against his eyes, bending over like the thought alone made him sick. “I fucked up bad and I can’t…”  
  
“Eren…” Marco reached out and tried to place a gentle hand on his mate’s shoulder but Eren flinched away from him with a feral growl. When he pulled both hands from his eyes and turned to face Marco there was a faint, emerald glow in the darkness.  
Jean ducked back behind the bush and closed his eyes, trying to even out his breathing, heartbeat picking up. This couldn’t be a good sign. Strong emotions could probably counter the potion Hanji had made for them, especially if the two were older and more powerful than expected. Jean took a deep breath, smelling fear and rage and a trapped anxiousness, all of it making bitter bile rise in his throat.  
The only thing that didn’t want to make any sense was why on earth Eren would blame himself. But then again … Jean had experience with talking himself into thinking everything was his fault alone. The werewolf was probably thinking that if he’d been stronger or smarter or just somewhere else that night, the spell wouldn’t have hit him.  
  
“Please Eren, I need you to breathe. Can you do that for me? Deep breaths?”, Marco tried again, still sounding calm and controlled. He’d probably witnessed his mate shifting hundreds of times and wouldn’t be fazed by the spectacle. Jean, on the other hand…  
A dull thump, some dry crunching and Eren seemed to comply, the sound of his breaths rough and laboured and somehow wetter and darker than before. One hand clamped down over his lips Jean peeked out from his hiding place.    
Eren was kneeling on the floor, still hunched forward with his palms against the earth, fingers twitching, raking through the leaves like claws. His whole body was heaving with every deep breath.  
  
“Don’t give up control”, Marco continued as he crouched down in front of his mate. One of his hands came up to rest on top of Eren’s bowed head and an answering whine sounded through the air, almost pained with how high pitched it was. “Don’t run away from this now. Talk to me.”  
Eren growled again but didn’t pull away this time. He leaned into the caress instead, body trembling with exertion as he seemed to fight for control like Marco had told him to. Jean watched them for what felt like a long time, Eren growling and whining, sometimes deep and feral, other times more human. Marco stayed with him for as long as he needed, crouched down in front of him, gently patting his hair.  
Then, after Eren had stopped trembling and twitching, Marco leaned forward and gathered his mate’s body up in his arms, pulling him into a tight, steady hug.  
  
“It was you, wasn’t it?”, Marco hummed, voice almost too low for Jean to understand. “You were the one who didn’t have … intent?”  
Jean’s heartbeat stopped a moment too long before slamming back against his ribs with all the force of a truck at top speed, white noise washing over him and drowning out all outside sounds for a good few seconds. The first thing he heard when it died down was a heart-shattering sob that was all too human.  
“I love you”, Eren whispered, weak and teary. “Fuck, Marco, I love you, I…”  
“I know”, Marco whispered back and pressed a soothing kiss against Eren’s forehead, shifting their position a bit so he could hold his mate in his lap, wrapping him up completely in his strong hold. “But you love him too, don’t you? Just a bit?”  
Another sob and Jean could feel the sting of tears in his own eyes. He blinked them shut and moved back into hiding, biting down hard on the fingers covering his mouth. As much as he felt for Eren, understood the guilt and fear if what Marco said was true … he couldn’t help a surge of inappropriate giddiness squirm to live in his stomach.  
  
“It’s the spell”, Eren whimpered and his voice was muffled as if he were hiding his face against Marco’s chest or neck. “It’s just the fucking … I can’t even know if…”  
Marco shushed him softly, then there were more little noises of gentle kisses, more rustling of leaves.  
“We both know that can’t be quite true, don’t we? Mrs. Kirschtein said the banishing would get rid of all artificial feeling of infatuation caused by the binding. Genuine emotions, though…”  
A sob so desperate it cut through Jean’s chest like glass and had him bite down even harder on his own fingers, the pain at least grounding him. This was happening. He wasn’t the only one.  
“But I really don’t blame you”, Marco continued and this almost sounded like he was smiling. “He really is awfully cute. And I’d even say he likes you as well. Isn’t that so, Jean?”  
The last words were louder and obviously directed at him. Of course. He should have never expected Marco to not pick up on his presence, if Eren was too upset to notice it.  
Jean swallowed and straightened up, standing on shaky legs to look at them over the bushes.  
  
“It’s okay, come here”, Marco said and Jean could hear the smile in his voice even though he couldn’t see it in the darkness. Eren didn’t even react, curled up into a small shape in his mate’s lap, face hidden against Marco’s chest.  
Had there been so much as a trace of aggression or any other sign that he wasn’t welcome at this moment Jean would have turned around and fled the forest, bringing as much space between himself and the two werewolves as he could. But Marco still seemed calm and patient and understanding, the feverish note in the air having calmed down to something smaller. Still urgent and helpless but soothed with support and love. Like this it was easy to follow Marco’s request and step around his hiding place, slowly letting the hand that had been clamped over his mouth sink to his side.  
  
“I’m sorry, I…”, he began, his voice rough and way too loud in the eerie silence around them. When he spoke up again it was softer. “I didn’t want to interrupt at … an important moment.” He didn’t say “I didn’t want to push him to shift” but Marco seemed to understand anyway. Now that they were closer it was easier to make out his face in what little light made it through the thinning canopy above them and it looked soft and understanding.  
“Sit?”, Marco asked and Jean complied before he could really think about it, kneeling down on the dry leaves covering the forest ground and hoping he hadn’t picked a spot where an animal had relieved itself earlier.  
It was a strange mirror of their first conversation a month prior, kneeling in Jean’s garden. Only this time it was dark and they were much closer, Marco hugging Eren tight and Jean fighting the strong urge to reach out and give at least some kind of comfort of his own. But he didn’t want to risk upsetting Eren even more so he kept still.  
  
“How are you feeling?”, Marco asked, looking right at him and Jean couldn’t help but frown. This really shouldn’t be about him, should it? But Marco sounded sincere and just concerned enough for Jean to answer truthfully.  
“Guilty”, he said. “Embarrassed. I uhm … I came here to explain what happened but I … I think…”  
Marco hummed softly when he trailed off and finally Eren moved, lifting his head to look between them. There were still traces of an unnatural shimmer in his eyes but nothing as intense as the glow had been earlier. His brows were furrowed and he was biting his lip. There was no anger coming from him anymore.  
“You didn’t expect both of you lacking intent?”, Marco suggested and Jean nodded, still baffled by the sheer idea as well as the fact that Marco had seen through both of them with such ease. Eren of course, they had been mates for a long, long time apparently. Of course Marco would sense a drift like that, a shift of focus. But Jean? That didn’t make nearly as much sense, they weren’t bonded after all. Maybe he just hadn’t been nearly as subtle about his inappropriate feelings as he’d expected. An option that seemed more and more likely consider how casual Marco was about all of this. He must have seen it coming from miles away. What if he’d also suspected the banishing would fail?

Before Jean could lose himself in all the implications that train of thought still held hidden for him Eren’s voice pulled him back to reality. It was darker and rougher than usual, equal parts unsettling and attractive.  
“It’s not just me?”, he asked and the crease between his brows deepened with disbelief. Jean wanted to rub at it with his thumb until it disappeared but he still didn’t dare to reach out and touch either of them so instead he nodded again. He could emphasize with the crushing sense of guilt that must have been rising in Eren since he’d first suspected there was something more growing between them. Add to that the feeling of betraying his beloved mate and his panicked reaction made perfect sense, down to bolting from the ritual site when his only hope to end all of this had just vanished.  
Jean took a deep breath.  
“It’s not”, he said, finally ready to do what he’d come here for and lay it all out in the open. To be honest with them and own up to his mistakes and feelings. Especially if doing that would somehow help to get rid of that guilt in Eren’s eyes.  
  
“I know a month isn’t a lot of time…” he began, haltingly and cleared his throat to win a few more seconds before continuing. “But I guess the spell and the, uhm … the sex and everything kinda sped it up and … I don’t know when it started but I know that I’m crushing on you like a complete idiot and…” He paused to lick his lips and took in both their expressions. Marco accepting and warm, Eren still frowning with his lips slightly parted. “And I didn’t know what to do ‘cause … you’re mated and all and I didn’t want to fuck anything up for you. Not … not more than I already had anyway.” Jean forced out a dry laugh and felt his cheeks burn when Marco gave him `a sad little smile in return. But there was no going back now. Full disclosure. He owed them that much. Owed Eren that and so much more.  
“So I pushed it away and told myself that I had to let you go. That you didn’t owe me shit and I just needed to break the damn bond so you could get as far away from me as you probably wanted…” Both Eren and Marco let out a noise of protest at that but didn’t interrupt him any further. “But knowing I needed to break the bond and let you go didn’t mean I _wanted_ to and … that’s what’s probably fucked up the banishing. That I … really didn’t want you to just disappear.”  
  
The technicalities were still a bit more complex than that and near impossible to explain without covering a whole lesson on love spells and familiars as well as bonding and banishing rituals so Jean left it at that. Maybe there would be another time to explain the exact kind of hybrid ritual they had used earlier and how real emotions versus spell-bound infatuations influenced those. But for now he had said everything he needed to make them understand what had happened … and what an emotional idiot he was.  
“It’s not that I’m absolutely head over heels in love with you two…”, Jean continued, trying to put things into perspective and not make himself seem like an absolute fool. “But it’s not just the spell talking when I say I really like both of you and I … want you to stick around a while longer. Spend more time with you and see … if we can get somewhere. Together…”  
  
Marco smiled, soft and patient and accepting.  
“Oh Jean”, he hummed and reached out with one hand but before he could touch Jean, Eren started to move. He wiggled out of his partner’s hold and quickly bridged the gap between them, straddling Jean’s lap and throwing strong arms around his neck.  
Eren’s lips were wet and tasted of salt when he pushed them against Jean’s. But they were also warm and soft, a tentative, yet intense kiss that Eren sighed into like a heavy weight had just been lifted from his shoulders. After a short moment of surprise Jean slowly raised his arms to wrap them around the werewolf’s back, pulling him just a bit closer and carefully kissing back, moving his lips against Eren’s.  
If Marco had anything against this he’d never have allowed Eren to climb into Jean’s lap in the first place. Instead there was a low, happy purr as he watched the two of them and something mellow leaked into the air, something pleased. Jean wasn’t quite sure if it was coming from Marco or Eren or maybe even himself but that hardly seemed important when Eren cupped his face with both hands and deepened the kiss, pressing their mouths together in an urgent, needy manner that would have made Jean’s knees buckle had he been standing.  
  
Eren kissed like he was starved for it, starved for Jean and it was so hard to think like this, to be aware of anything but those soft lips and gentle hands and the tongue occasionally flicking against his mouth. The next thing Jean really noticed, besides from Eren still trying to steal the breath from his lungs, was another pair of warm arms wrapping around him and pulling him back against a broad chest. He would have yelped in surprise had he any air left to, so he just shuddered instead and let Marco hug him tight.  
He was back between them, something he’d come to greatly appreciate during the month they’d spent together. He was safe whenever they held him like this, shielded him from the world, and now that he was cradled like this again he was all the more sure that he really didn’t want to lose this. This intimacy and warmth and the incredible pulse of their joint energy ebbing and flowing between all three of them.  
He didn’t just feel complete with the two of them at his sides, he felt elevated, exalted, like he could conquer anything and everything, like he could make worlds bend to his will. And maybe that was dangerous, would make him more arrogant and ready to take stupid risks like he had before. Or maybe it was just what everyone deserved.  
But no matter the consequences … now that Jean knew his longing wasn’t quite as one-sided as expected he wasn’t sure he could pull away even it might be the wiser decision.  
  
“As I see it we have two options now”, Marco rumbled close to his ear, resting his chin on Jean’s shoulder. “One: We look for a way to enhance your ritual and try again next full moon. Doesn’t have to mean we’d disappear from your life, it would just take the binding out of the equation, right?”  
Jean tried to follow Marco’s words but god, it was so hard to think when Eren was kissing him like this, that nimble tongue gliding against his teeth. He managed to give a jerky little nod between deep, noisy kisses. It might not be that simple but Marco at least had the semantics right.  
“Or number two…”, Marco continued, his palms gliding across Jean’s chest, hidden under just a thin layer of the shirt he was wearing. “We forget the banishing for now and just see where this leads us. If it doesn’t work out we can still try the ritual again with intent and go our separate ways.”  
That didn’t sound all too enticing. The part where they’d stay bound for now, though…  
  
Jean gasped when Eren bit his lip on a low whine, one of those warms hands wandering up to rake through his hair, tousling it even further. His brain tried to weigh the options against another, tried to find holes and arguments and possible solutions but Eren was so very distracting…  
“I could, ah … I could try and undo the … the familiar binding without … oh fuck…” Eren had moved down to his throat when he started speaking, trailing kisses and bites along the pale line of his neck and Jean instinctively let his head fall back against Marco’s shoulder to give him more space. “Without reversing the … the m-mating bond? It’s … it’s complicated and would be w-way more complex than … than … Eren…” He moaned softly when the werewolf dipped down to bite at his collarbone and twitched in Marco’s arms, earning him a pleased rumble.  
“More complex than what we … what we did today”, he managed to finish, arching against Eren’s firm body. “M-might be worth a sh-shot…”  
  
There was a good chance that the only reason their reluctance to separate had influenced the ritual was because he’d gone too far trying to sever every connection they had. Maybe there was a way around this. But that was definitely a question for when he had a clearer head and not a lapful of overly excited werewolf.  
“So we can stay, yes?”, Eren asked breathlessly before crushing their lips together again in a deep kiss. Then he pulled back and peered over Jean’s shoulder at Marco. “And it’s okay? You don’t … you’re not…?”  
Jean wasn’t even sure if Eren knew how to finish that question, what terrible scenarios of Marco leaving or casting him out he’d imagined in his panic.  
But Marco dispelled all the lingering worries with a soft: “Of course not. I love you. We’ve always been in this together.”  
They kissed then, slow and sweet and sensual, their utter devotion for each other radiating from every inch of their bodies and for the first time in a month Jean’s felt like he was truly part of, not just witness to, something absolutely pure and beautiful.


	4. Forever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Kahleniel

It had been a long time coming but at the point where they finally reached a decision Jean had been prepared.   
He’d not only poured hours upon hours into research, sifting through books and web pages, he’d also asked everyone that he considered to be even remotely helpful for their input on refining the spell he chose. When he was done his whole coven knew about the unorthodox plan.  
  
But Jean couldn’t care less. He’d gratefully accept their teasing if it only meant that for once he wouldn’t fuck up majorly and disappoint everyone putting their trust in him.   
  
“Stop it.”  
  
Marco’s voice reached him through the kaleidoscope of whirling thoughts and worries, a calming weight pulling him back to the ground.   
“You’re overthinking”, he said, his hand coming to rest on Jean’s shoulder. “It’s gonna be fine, you did your best and had help from the best.”   
Jean let out a slow breath, trying to convince his racing heart that Marco’s words were true.  
“I know. I know, but…”  
  
“You won’t fuck up”, Eren interrupted, reaching out to cup Jean’s hand holding the wand.   
“He’s right”, Marco agreed, soft and relaxed, breathing calm into the air around them. “You’re an incredibly talented witch and you’re well prepared. We trust you. And you should trust yourself, too.”  
  
Another deep breath.  
“And you’re really sure about the…”, Jean trailed off, gesturing towards Eren, to where the branding of Jean’s family seal was peeking out from underneath his collar.   
Contrary to his expectations the sign hadn’t disappeared from Eren’s skin after they’d severed the familiar bond, apparently having shifted it’s ties to the mating bond they’d left untouched. Another way Jean had failed.  
But then again this particular surprise had turned out to be a good one. Eren had come to wear the seal with pride, just as he did the scars of Marco’s claim along his shoulder.   
  
“Jean, we talked about this”, Marco hummed, still patient after promising for what felt like the hundredth time that yes, of course he was sure. “You can’t mark us the way we can each other. Or you. So if you want our marks I want yours first. Just like Eren has it.”  
“We need this Jean, you know we do”, Eren insisted, squeezing Jean’s fingers.   
  
He was right. Whatever they did or wanted to do, there would always be a tilt to the delicate balance they were trying to build with each other. They’d tried to settle it for months but with a werewolf bond that had grown over ages and the magical ties that had already solidified between Jean and Eren there was a gap they just couldn’t bridge.   
No matter how strongly both Jean and Marco were linked with Eren and how connected they were across him … there was no direct bond and the ache of something that should be there but wasn’t became more insistent every day.   
  
Eren and Marco were ready to commit. There was no way to show it more clearly than to sit with him on the little balcony under the waxing moon, everything already set out and prepared for the spell that should bind Marco to him the way Eren already was. They trusted him to set this right, to relieve them of the constant ache and give them a future.  
The only thing standing in their way was Jean’s own uncertainty that he’d never managed to get rid of since the mistake that had brought them to him.   
  
But it was time to let go.  
They deserved this chance.  
  
With one last look at both of them Jean took a deep breath and gripped his wand tighter. Then he began the grounding incantations.  
  
~

“Well, do you feel different?”, Eren asked, tilting Marco’s head back to look into his mate’s eyes. He was strangely fussy, had already yanked off Marco’s shirt to search for a seal he didn’t find before taking vital signs.  
  
“I’m … not sure”, Marco hummed, letting Eren check him over. “What am I supposed to feel? There was a tingling, a … surge? But I don’t know.”  
Eren frowned.  
“You’d know. For me it was a call, a pull to him. Very immediate and pressing and, well the next morning my heat started…”  
  
“It’s … it’s a different spell than yours”, Jean supplied, trying not to panic, but it was hard with the voice in the back of his head hissing _you fucked up, you fucked up again_. “A different binding method. It … could be delayed or…”  
“Or it didn’t work!”, Eren snapped but Marco pulled him back.   
“Calm down, Eren. It’s okay. Let’s just wait until tomorrow morning and then we’ll see. Even if it didn’t work we can just try again, we’re not on a time limit, alright?”  
  
There was a tense pause, Eren’s eyes flicking between them. Jean tried very hard to not take his fretting personal, to not see it as an accusation. He knew Eren was just worried about his mate after things not going quite as expected yet again.   
He also appreciated Marco’s words, his kindness and patience.   
  
But that voice just wouldn’t shut up, whispering to him about how there might not be another try. How they might leave him. Or even if they didn’t how there might never be a chance to get it right. He did ask the most powerful witches he knew for advice and if not even following their instructions could get him anywhere … maybe he was just a talentless failure.   
Maybe he didn’t deserve to be bound to them after all.  
  
Of course Jean didn’t voice any of his concerns, not wanting to worry either of them any further. And if he had another night left, cuddled up close in bed with them, he was too selfish to take that away from himself.   
  
Jean didn’t sleep that night.

~  
  
Come dawn Jean had been overthinking for hours and firmly convinced himself that this was it, that it didn’t work, that he was a failure and they’d leave him.  
Looking at both their relaxed, sleeping faces, bathed in the first rays of early morning light, Jean felt a deep ache for what he was sure he’d lose. The mere thought of watching them leave filling him with such overwhelming sorrow he found himself unable to stay in bed with them any longer.  
  
Maybe he could make breakfast, thank them for staying with him a while, for making him happy.   
Throat closing up Jean scooted to the side of the bed, ready to leave and give up their soothing closeness forever.  
  
But then strong arms wrapped around his middle and pulled him back under the covers, enveloping him with calming warmth.  
“Dun go…”, Marco slurred, burying his face in Jean’s hair and pulling him close against that strong body. “Want you here.”   
Jean swallowed but couldn’t bring himself to pull away. Probably wouldn’t have been able to anyway, Marco was so much stronger than him, even half asleep.   
“Marco?”, he whispered instead, unsure if the werewolf might still be dreaming. “How … uhm, how are you?”  
Marco hummed, his hips moving, pushing against Jean’s ass.  
  
“Tired…”, he grumbled, hands wandering to slide under the shirt Jean had been sleeping in. “Hot…”  
“Oh, uhm…” Before Jean could think of a smart reply Marco dipped down to drag his lips along Jean’s neck, biting gently.  
“I want you…”  
  
Jean shivered and squirmed, the touch of Marco’s hands and lips, the feeling of his teeth and warm breath all too distracting, all to perfect.  
“I need you … our pretty little witch…” Even that slurred rumble was erotic somehow and Jean gasped, a suspicion coming to life that was somehow even more delicious than the touches.   
  
“Can you, ah … can you stop for a second? I need to … need to check…”  
Marco grumbled but let go of him so that Jean could turn around in his arms and look at him. At first Jean’s heart sank when he found the skin below Marco’s collarbones still bare and unmarked. But then he decided to check more thoroughly, lifting the blanket to inspect the rest of his boyfriend’s body. And there it was. Peeking out from under his boxer briefs, right next to his hipbone: Jean’s family crest, a branding in an angry red that Jean knew would fade to a healed brown later in the day.  
  
It felt like a tight knot in Jean’s chest burst open at the sight, letting him breathe for the first time since the supposedly failed ritual last night.

It worked. He wasn’t a failure. They wouldn’t leave him. They had a future.  
Those revelations crashed over Jean with barely a second between them, drowning out every other thought, every other feeling. He was only pulled back to reality when Marco’s warm hand cupped his cheek to wipe away tears Jean hadn’t even noticed were dripping from his lashes.  
  
“You okay?”, Marco asked with a rough voice, blinking slowly at him. Jean could only nod, still speechless, before letting himself fall back into strong arms.   
“Yeah”, he breathed against Marco’s neck, slotting their bodies together more naturally than ever before. “Need me?”  
Wrapping his arms tightly around him Marco hummed his agreement, slowly rolling his hips.  
“How about…”, Jean murmured. “How about we wake up Eren and … and have some fun? He’ll ugh, he’ll want to … watch…”  
  
“Oh, Eren’s watching”, came the sleepy rumble from next to them and Jean stretched to take a look over Marco’s shoulder. Eren was indeed awake and apparently very interested in what they were doing. “I guess it worked then?”  
  
Jean couldn’t help the dumb grin spreading across his face, way too relieved at the fact that yes, it had actually worked.  
“It did!”, he grinned and was met with a sleepy smile.  
“Good. Let’s take care of our mess…”

~  
  
All the wonderful nights they’d spent together after their very first one had almost made Jean forget how incredible and intense their bonding sex had been.   
Marco was as insatiable as Eren had been that night, skin hot and feverish with his eyes glossed over, panting and growling as he took both of them. His stamina was impressive and he just wouldn’t let up, everything in him screaming to deepen the fresh bond, to reaffirm the old one. To finally stabilize their balance.   
  
Jean was far from complaining. Marco’s attentions were always welcome, always pleasant and warm and safe, even considering how frantic and needy he was this morning.   
Being pushed and pulled into position and smothered in Marco’s thick, heady scent, only given a break when their mate went on to take care of the other, was unusual to say the least. But Jean still enjoyed every second.  
  
He didn’t know how much time had passed when he found himself perched in Marco’s lap, could only judge by the sunlight that had gone from a soft glow illuminating their tangled, sweat-slick bodies to a bright shine, that it had been at least a few hours.   
  
The werewolf pulled him back into his strong chest, both arms wrapped around Jean tightly, holding him still as Marco’s hips ground up into him.   
Jean was stretched wide and sensitive after more orgasms than he’d bothered counting but he was far from asking for a break.   
He’d known what would happen should the spell work, had looked forward to it, in fact. And now that he was actually experiencing Marco’s heat it was so much more than he’d imagined.   
  
With Eren it had been fresh, a whole new experience, overwhelming in it’s novelty. There wasn’t a chance to compare what it was like to be with him without a bond already involved.  
On the other hand Jean was already intimately familiar with Marco. With his body, the way his mouth tasted, his hands felt, with the way he made love. Of course they had always been sensitive for each other, able to feel the pulse and flow of the other’s energy even without a magical band to enhance the awareness.   
  
But now that they were actually bonded it was so much more intense than before and the difference resonated deep within Jean’s bones with every kiss and touch and whispered word. Every thrust into him opened his pores to soak up even more of Marco’s energy, the overwhelming presence enough to charge Jean’s whole being.   
  
Jean could feel the echo of their exchange in Eren, both of them feeding the experience into their respective bonds with him and making him squirm and pant between Jean’s spread thighs, as unused to the intensity and intimacy as both of them were.   
  
Eren was giving his best to suck Jean off, the distraction making his movements sloppy and messy, barely more than ungraceful slurps and clumsy flicks of tongue, twitching whenever he received another crackling burst of charged energy through their bond.   
Jean didn’t blame him. This was hard for him to take as well and he was experienced and very in touch with that spiritual side of himself. It wasn’t surprising Eren would be overwhelmed.  
  
But there was something off. Something they still had to correct before their balance could settle at last.   
Jean squirmed, trying to concentrate on something else than Marco’s thick cock grinding into him or Eren’s sloppy blowjob, trying to tune out the heavy, pulsing flow between them.  
“E-Eren…”, he gasped, hand finding it’s way into thick dark hair to fist in it and pull the werewolf away from his cock. As good as that felt, there was something more important they had to take care of first.   
“Marco … Marco…” Reaching back with the other hand he cupped Marco’s cheek, pressing himself tighter against the sturdy chest in his back.  
  
Both werewolves growled, hands tightening around his ribs, his hips, his thighs. Holding him. Keeping him grounded.  
“I … I need…”   
Jean moaned, distracted by the throb of Marco’s cock inside him, the slow grind he was still keeping up, rubbing the tip of his erection right into Jean’s sweet spot.  
“What do you need?”, Marco rumbled and Jean could feel the powerful words vibrate against his back, a hot surge of energy whipping through their bond. It made him quiver with the intuition that this man would tear the whole world apart to give him whatever he asked for.  
  
“Mark me…”, he finally forced out, eyes screwed shut and hips twitching. “Claim me, you … you need to…”  
They both growled again, hot need and desire pulsing through their connection as Eren moved up to cup Jean’s cheeks with both hands.   
  
“You sure?”, he murmured but there was want burning in his eyes and a barely contained impulse radiating from his body.   
“You’ll be ours”, Marco added, voice rough as he stilled his hips, cock throbbing deep inside Jean. “Our witch. Forever.”  
The last breath of a word made goosebumps race down Jean’s arms and back and there was longing, deep and instinctive, the most natural feeling Jean had ever experienced.  
  
“Yes”, he gasped, cupping both their cheeks and letting himself sink into his longing, sending out tendrils of the feeling through their bonds, trying to prove how much he needed them. “You’re mine. I … I wanna be yours…”  
“Ours…”, Marco repeated and dipped down to brush hot lips along the juncture of Jean’s neck and shoulder.  
“Forever…”, Eren sighed, resting their foreheads together and gazing deep into Jean’s eyes.  
  
“Yes. Do it.”  
Jean had never been so sure about something in his entire life.   
The feeling only intensified when Eren dove down as well, trailing kisses along the other side of his neck and the slope of his shoulder, licking the salty skin.  
“Please…”  
  
There was another second that might as well have been an eternity when all of them held their breaths, waiting for any sign this shouldn’t happen.   
But when nothing came and the desire and need only grew stronger in all of them Eren and Marco kissed his shoulders before digging their teeth deep into his flesh. Deep enough to draw blood, to leave twin scars on him, marking him as theirs.   
  
Forever.


	5. Reflecting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also posted on my tumblr: [fenfyre](https://fenfyre.tumblr.com/)

Jean had loved Hanji’s apartment from the very first moment he’d stepped into it as a kid, accompanying his mother on some errand or another.   
It was surprisingly big, bigger than one might suspect considering the building it was situated in, and utterly crammed with the most fascinating collection of supplies and resources Jean had seen to date. Dark oak bookshelves lined every wall, from floor to ceiling, and they were stuffed full of old, leather-bound tombs, tattered notebooks and plain paperbacks alike, all lined up back to back and sorted meticulously depending on the topics they covered.  
His mother had been so mad when he’d pulled out one of them to flip through it with sticky fingers, awe on his chubby face, only to be unable to return it when he forgot where he’d gotten it from.   
But Hanji had just laughed at the chocolatey fingerprints on the parchment and told him stories about the vibrant paintings until Jean was sure they were moving right in front of his eyes, before gently closing the book and slipping it into it’s rightful place two rooms over.   
  
Books weren’t the only thing that Hanji’s apartment was overflowing with. There were dozens of cabinets stuffed full of crystals and candles, cleaned animal bones and jars filled with water, sand, soot or millions of other things.   
Potted plants perched on shelves and windowsills or dried bundles of flowers and herbs hung from the ceiling with no visible threads stringing them up.   
Drawers filled to the brim with all kinds of materials, wands and beautiful silverware, shells and conches, tiny to huge. Little locked wooden boxes that Jean still didn’t know what they contained.   
  
Some things always stayed the same no matter how often Jean visited but other things about this place seemed to be shifting periodically,   
The bookshelves might stay the same but their contents changed, the books themselves never where Jean remembered them from his last visit. Some of the cabinets changed rooms frequently and the jars lined up above the stove never held the same herbs and spices. Jean could also swear the arrangement of rooms never stayed the same, at least he hadn’t once found the bathroom where he’d remembered it. But maybe that was just due to the maze-like layout of the whole apartment.   
  
It never smelled the same as well, though there was always a distinct scent hanging in the air and it was always a delicious one. Sometimes it was the scent of a home-cooked meal, savoury spices and juicy meats that made his mouth water, even though the kitchen was pristine and empty. Sometimes it were flowery or fruity notes, jasmine and rosemary and crisp apples. Sometimes it smelled of sweet honey or a fresh ocean breeze or just the dusty scent of aeons-old books.  
And it was never quiet, a few notes of music drifting through the still air, an orchestra or a jazz band or a lone harp, a few light steps across creaking floorboards even though there should be nobody else in the apartment, or, like today, the wispy, light clinging sounds of wind chimes.  
  
Jean couldn’t help but feel a childlike wonder wash over him yet again as he stepped into the home of their priest, gripped by a sweet nostalgia and a desire to explore all the hidden corners he hadn’t seen before.   
But even though he always enjoyed coming here, that wasn’t the reason he’d made the trip. He needed help and this was one of the few addresses he knew he’d get it.  
  
Hanji wasn’t like most witches who picked a few areas of expertise and built their personal brand of witchcraft around the spells or elements or deities they felt most comfortable with. No, Hanji did _everything_.   
Where Jean had found his connection to the earth, the fields and forests around his cottage and tapped into the raw forces of nature he could find there, Hanji was so much more.   
They worked with every element and every school of magic known, had a deep connection to deities and spirits from every pantheon, could pull their power from any source available, tap into the raging force of a lightning storm just as well as into the thrumming pulse of electricity in the city. They could cook magic into their meals and write spells into the air with little more than a flick of their wrist. They could see the future and the past and sometimes, when the conditions were right, through the veil of death.   
  
“So...”, Hanji began after they’d settled at a small, round table in the library, a cozy room that housed even more bookshelves than the rest of the apartment as well as a handful of beautiful, old books locked in display cases. “Tell me more about those visions of yours.”  
  
Before Jean could even think about where to start Hanji jumped to their feet again with a loud “Oh, wait!” and hurried over to a sidetable decorated with a delicate porcelain tea set Jean had never seen before. They quickly poured two steaming cups of tea and carried them over to Jean.  
“Before we begin”, Hanji said, setting one of the cups down in front of him. “Drink this.”  
Jean eyed the tea suspiciously. It was faintly rose coloured and had a light, pleasantly floral scent.  
“What is it?”  
“Oh, just something I like to drink before any divination work”, Hanji explained with an almost dismissive flick of their wrist. “Rose petals, cherry blossoms, jasmine … you know, to help jump-start the psychic link?”  
  
Over the years Jean had learned enough about the priest to know that wasn’t the full list of ingredients. But he also knew that Hanji would never knowingly endanger anyone but themselves testing knew spells and recipes so he decided it was best to accept the drink and not ask any more questions. If he was about to drink diluted snake venom or something similar he didn’t even want to know.   
So he just smiled and took a careful sip, surprised to find the tea had a perfect drinking temperature and a subtle, sweet taste.  
  
“About those visions”, Hanji continued, chin resting in their palm and eyes staring intently at Jean through thick glasses. “I heard they occurred during intercourse, is that true? Right when you climaxed?”  
Joan groaned internally, long and miserable. This was what he’d been dreading. To get Hanji’s help he’d have to put everything on the table. _Everything_.   
Better to get that part out of the way as quickly as possible.  
  
“Yes, it happened while I was … helping Eren with, uh … with the … heat?”  
“Eren, that’s the one you bound?” There were traces of amusement in Hanji’s voice and Jean felt his embarrassment flare even brighter. The whole story was common knowledge within the coven, especially after the failed banishing not too long ago, but he still hadn’t gotten used to the little jabs now and then,  even though he knew he deserved them.  
“Yes. The other one, his mate, that’s Marco.”  
“Ah, yes. I remember”, Hanji nodded and there it was, that glitter in their eyes. “Oh this is all _so_ very interesting! Werewolves are fascinating, it’s a shame there’s so few around these parts. You’ll have to let me meet them one day, I’d love to ask some questions. Maybe take a few samples, too. You wouldn’t believe what you can do with potent creature blood like that, the results would be astonishing...”  
  
“Hanji”, Jean interrupted the rambling. As brilliant as Hanji was, they got lost in their enthusiasm all too often.  
“Oh, right!” They perked up, eyes focusing back on Jean. “So, those orgasm-visions.”  
This time Jean groaned out loud.  
“Can we call them something else? Please?”  
“Oh Jean, sex magic is nothing to be ashamed of. It can be incredibly powerful and, if we’re being honest, it’s _really_ fun...” They winked. Jean wanted to die.  
He had made his experiences with sex magic even before Eren and Marco came into his life and the visions happened and he had to agree, it was powerful and fun. Still nothing he liked to openly discuss with any member of his coven. Except for Sasha. Maybe. As long as they were drunk.  
  
“Come on, boy. Stop playing the blushing virgin, tell me about it.”  
“The … the encounter itself?” If he hadn’t known Hanji for so long this would be the point he’d start suspecting questionable motives.   
“Of course, I need to know what happened to see how deep the connection went and how far you could reach.”

Jean sighed, took another long sip of tea, rubbed his eyes. Then he finally nodded.  
  
“So I … I did it with Marco first, something about werewolf hierarchy, then a few rounds with Eren and uhm … in the end we, we all did it … together.” That had to be enough, right?   
“Together?”, Hanji repeated, eyebrows furrowed with fascination. “Interesting. How old did you say they were?”  
“I’m not sure, they’ve been mated for decades, probably close to a century?”  
Hanji’s lips parted as they let out a surprised noise and nodded slowly.  
  
“Not bad. And your visions, were they in colour or black and white? Did you hear any sound? How clear were the images?”  
Jean took a while to think about the question, trying to conjure up the things he’d seen that night. It had all happened so fast.  
“I think most of them were in colour”, he tried after a while, voice low and thoughtful. “Maybe a few black and white but they were all really sharp, nothing blurry or faded. And at least one of them had sound. Church bells.”  
  
“Church bells?” Hanji sounded surprised, their head tipping to the side as they regarded Jean. “Are you sure? Did you see a church?”  
Now that he thought about it…  
“No, there was just this ringing, far away and kind of distorted. That’s the last thing I remember before I blacked out.”  
“Those weren’t church bells”, Hanji said, serious, like they knew exactly what Jean was talking about. “Let me tell you what happened.”   
  
It wasn’t that Jean didn’t have his own suspicions about the visions. He had done his research and came to a few conclusions himself. But he still preferred to get a second opinion, especially before diving deeper into topics he didn’t have a lot of experience with.   
The failed binding did manage to teach him a lesson or two after all.  
  
Hanji took a slow sip of tea before settling back, folding their hands in their lap.  
“From what I gather you were hopelessly overcharged that night”, they began, earlier excitement gone and replaced by a calm focus Jean wasn’t sure what to make of. “You tapped into the cycles of two undoubtedly powerful werewolves right after a full moon. I know with your sensitivity for energy shifts you must have felt that power but weren’t sure what to do with it, how to contain it, and so you didn’t. Which, I suppose, wasn’t the worst way to go about it. The chances of powers obtained from benevolent connections like that backfiring are very slim.”  
  
Jean frowned, pursed his lips.  
“Backfiring?”, he asked. The last thing he wanted to be told was that he’d been close to burning down his aunt’s cottage during crazy, magic werewolf-sex.   
“Well, yes”, Hanji shrugged, unconcerned. “Theoretically it’s possible to attract or summon spirits or lesser fiends when exposed to powers one is not yet ready to wield. But that wasn’t your first night using magic and your mama didn’t raise an idiot, so of course you didn’t.” A brief pause, then a subtle smirk made it back onto Hanji’s lips. “And you won’t, should that happen again. I’ll show you how to redirect and safely release a surplus of energy, it’s easier than it sounds, and then you can have all the fun you want...”  
  
Jean wanted to squirm at the innuendo but kept still and nodded instead, trying to get the conversation back on track.  
“So I didn’t summon anything evil but what did I do, exactly?”  
Hanji hummed thoughtfully, the smirk melting away as their expression became more serious again.  
“To put it simply you … opened gateways. Several overlapping ones because your attempt, if we can even call it that, was unintentional and unfocused. But with how charged you were you still succeeded.”  
  
“Gateways”, Jean repeated and received a quick nod. That was about what he’d suspected. “Gateways to what?”  
“I’m sure you’re familiar with the multiverse theory?”   
Familiar? Well, he heard of it a few times but never thought he’d actually have to _apply_ any of it. He was a witch, not a physicist.  But he still tried his best to answer.  
“Kinda. It says our universe exists at the same time as many others, right? That there’s parallel versions of it?”  
  
Hanji nodded, a spark of excitement entering their focused gaze.  
“Yes! You see, if our universe is virtually infinite you’ll find every possible constellation of particles in it and several times at that. It’s debatable whether in parallel universes or timelines or realities, or whatever you’d like to call them, those particles overlap, occupying the same space and time while still being mostly inaccessible or if we’re talking about infinite versions of earth scattered across all of infinity where the same events as on our earth take place with the slightest alterations, or if...”  
“Hanji.”  
“Yes. You opened gateways to some form of alternate realities of which the definition might be debatable but not their existence.”  
That logic he could follow.  
  
“Alright, I thought it might be something like that. So the people I saw...”  
Hanji nodded.  
“Most likely mirrored versions of yourself and your two werewolves, since your energies were most present and you would have latched onto anything reverberating before branching out to other signatures.”  
It felt strange, having his suspicions confirmed like that. Being told that he’d made contact, in some form another, with alternate versions of himself, of Eren and Marco. Jean wondered what they were like. At least they seemed to know each other in some of the parallel timelines…  
  
A strange thought, yes, but Jean couldn’t help but get more curious as well. He’d reached out once and had been mostly successful. Focused intention or not, he’d opened the gateways, he’d caught glimpses of what was behind and he wanted more. He wanted to try this time, wanted to do it right and not just stumble into something he couldn’t control.   
Before he knew it he’d knocked back the rest of his tea and placed the cup back onto the table, staring Hanji down.  
  
“What would happen if I didn’t do it by accident? If I tried to control it?”  
Hanji looked at him for a few seconds before a wide, wild grin started to spread across their face. “That’s my boy.” Reaching over to the side table they retrieved a stack of old cards, yellowing and torn at the edges, well-loved and used more often than anyone could imagine.  
With a practised motion Hanji fanned out the cards between them in a neat semi-circle.   
“Let’s find out.”  
  
Jean had never been particularly invested in divination.   
He wasn’t the type of witch to sit down and let a pendulum solve his problems for him or try to find a hidden message in the wet glob of tea leaves on the bottom of a cup. The one time he’d actually tried to get familiar with tarot he hadn’t even made it through the 22 Major Arcana before becoming frustrated and giving up, simply unable to memorize every nuanced interpretation for any given card.  
But Jean had always known that didn’t make him less of a witch and that every member of his coven had their preferred methods and ways to practice their craft. His way was simply a more proactive one.   
He loved doing creative, interesting rituals and spells to invite positivity and change into his live, loved mixing tinctures and potions and meditate while tending to his garden instead of waiting for the universe to send him signs.   
  
All of that didn’t mean he wasn’t completely awed by witches who could pull the most interesting lessons and ideas out of the cards or didn’t believe them to be a powerful tool in the right hands. And Hanji’s hands, delicate and ink-stained and covered in the tiniest of scars, were the right ones for just about any task.   
So Jean didn’t hesitate even a second to reach out and place his hand in theirs when they held it out invitingly.  
  
A weak prickle, like an electric current, spread across his palm when their skin touched, slowly travelling up his arm and across his shoulder where it tingled up his neck and crawled across his scalp.   
Jean carefully opened himself to the feeling, trying to feed some of his power back through their temporary connection. His attempt wasn’t quite as effortless, taking some time and focus until he felt his cycle soften and reshape, accepting Hanji’s energy and sharing his own with them.  
  
“Very good”, they praised with a smile and Jean felt a pleased warmth spread through him, knowing they could feel his pride through the connection.  
“Now I want you to pick one of your visions. Just one. Maybe the one that’s been the clearest or that made you feel something the others didn’t. The one you … connected with the most. Can you do that for me?”  
The first thing that popped into Jean’s mind were the bells, the fluttering emblem. Maybe because of what Hanji had said earlier but maybe also because it was the last thing he could remember before his body shut down. It seemed to be as good a place to start as any and Jean closd his eyes with a slow exhale and nodded.  
  
“I got something.”  
Hanji squeezed his hand and fed a spark of energy into him, a bright surge that sharpened his memory of the pictures.  
“Very good. Focus on it. What did you see?”  
He didn’t even have to try as the images rose up for him to inspect once more, flickering through his vision like a movie he could stop and rewind as he pleased. That was new. The visions had never been this clear and accurate when he’d tried to remember them on his own but with Hanji’s power at his disposal it became the easiest task he’d ever taken on. Fascinating.   
  
“I see … hands”, he started describing the very first image of that vision. “Calloused and scarred and ... bitten bloody.”  
“By an animal?”  
“No.” The answer was quick and easy. “The imprints look … human.”   
Hanji gave a thoughtful hum and let the silence sit between them for a while. When Jean didn’t find anything else worth to mention about the image he let the movie play on to the next one.  


“It’s night”, he continued, letting the scene play out very slowly and studying it closely. “It’s night and there’s a fire, a really big one. I’m … he’s burning something.”  
Even though everything else about the scene was clear and sharp, the crackling flames, the sparks spraying up into the starry night sky, Jean couldn’t make out what exactly was getting burned. His vision blurred when he tried to focus on it and a very real nausea rose in him, his throat constricting as he gagged.  
“What do you feel?”, Hanji asked, their voice insistent and urgent but Jean couldn’t put it into words at first.   
  
He didn’t want to let the horrible feeling spread but after a few steadying breaths and a reassuring squeeze of his hand he did, allowing it to take over his body. There was still so much to find out and uncover, endless timelines he could glimpse into if he only knew how, if he could only control it. But if he wanted to learn to control it he needed to see this through first.  
“I feel sick.” His voice was thick, words slow and hesitant as he felt into the squirming darkness spreading through his abdomen. “He’s grieving, he’s...”  
“That’s enough”, Hanji said gently. “Open your eyes but don’t let go of the feeling yet.”   
Jean complied, his breathing still laboured but grateful that he could focus on anything but his vision of flames. When he opened his eyes he saw Hanji’s hand hovering over the cards. A moment later they picked one and flipped it over between them.   
  
The king of wands. Well, Jean had definitely never made it that far during his brief time studying the tarot so he was impressed with himself he even recognized this card. Maybe nothing to be too proud of, the picture of a man wearing a crown, sitting on a throne and holding a long wooden staff speaking mostly for itself, but at least he wasn’t completely lost.   
Then he remembered that knowing which card had been drawn was the easy part, after that it was all about the interpretation and Jean drew a blank on that one. He couldn’t even blame it on the distracting nausea still trapped between his chest and his throat, he’d simply never bothered to even read up on what the different suits of Minor Arcana cards represented, let alone taken the time to actually study their meanings.  
  
But Hanji knew him, knew about his areas of expertise and the methods and schools that didn’t come to him as naturally and so they spared him the humiliation of asking for his opinion, his take on the meaning of the card, and went straight into the interpretation themselves.  
“The first card of the spread I chose tells us who you connected with”, they explained, free hand coming to rest on the table. “It’s not always very straight-forward but I like this answer. He’s a natural leader, an honourable man.”  
  
Jean let that sit for a moment, tried to link this new information with the dark feeling gnawing at his insides. It didn’t make a lot of sense.  
“That’s it?”, he frowned but his doubts were quickly shut down with a serious look Hanji gave him.  
“This isn’t a phonecall, young man. It’s your first try to build a spiritual connection spanning different dimensions. Don’t expect too much yet.”  
He grumbled out a reluctant apology, the distraction making the connection flicker and waver and Hanji squeezed his hand tightly.  
  
“Don’t let go. I can tell you more about him later but first I want to see what we get when you’re the one reaching out.”  
The comment about the bells, the question about the bitemarks and then the prompt to explain what he was feeling … Jean bit his lip. Of course.  
“You know him.”  
Hanji gave a non-committal shrug but didn’t stop squeezing his fingers. There was a deep sadness shifting in their eyes as they regarded Jean.  
“I know about him. He’s a soldier. A good man, very strong. I’m not surprised he was your first connection, but … I’ll answer your questions later. Let’s continue.”  
  
This time they didn’t even wait for an answer before reaching for a card and just before they picked one the feeling of dread and loss and horror flared up again, so intense Jean doubled over under it’s weight, gasping. Then, just as quickly, it ebbed away again to a small, unpleasant tug in his chest.   
  
The Hermit, lined up neatly next to the first card.   
“Now this second card”, Hanji continued, one of their fingers stroking jean’s soothingly. It was a small comfort. “Shows us more about the time in his life that you feel drawn to right now. The moment that evoked such an intense feeling of grief in you that you could make the jump from the memory of your vision to an actual connection.”  
Jean swallowed. He hoped it wouldn’t always have to be like this, that he’d be able to make these connections using positive, happy feelings instead of the pure, paralysing dread and hopelessness that spread through his chest like it was his own. 

  
“Tell me about it.” His voice came out raspy, weak. Jean wasn’t sure how much longer he wanted to keep this particular gateway open.  
“It seems like this grief that you’re feeling was in a time of great loneliness but also introspection. But it was a very important part of his life, which would explain why you’ve been immediately drawn to that point when it could have been any other in his timeline. Now, let’s see...”  
Hanji let their hand hover over the cards again, ready to descend and reveal the next one, when a ripple went through the air, effortlessly severing the connection Jean had still been holding on to and erasing every trace of grief and helplessness coiling in his abdomen, making breathing easy again.  
  
Hanji let out a surprised noise, eyes growing wide behind their glasses.  
“Did you feel that, too?”  
When Jean opened his mouth to answer it felt like electricity prickling across his tongue, strange but not unpleasant, and he nodded wordlessly.  
“What an … _interesting_ interference...” With a feeling of unease Jean noticed the faint, soothing noise of the wind chimes had ceased.  
Realistically he knew that Hanji’s apartment was secured by hundreds upon hundreds of wards and charms, redirecting or straight banishing everything trying to get inside with ill intent. It also wasn’t that he didn’t trust Hanji’s safety precautions. He’d trust their priest with his very life.   
But he’d never experienced an interference like that, not during anything related to his craft, and he had to admit it did make him nervous.   
  
Then Hanji perked up, alert gaze directed somewhere into the room behind Jean and a fascinated smile started to spread across their face.   
“Oh, it’s still here...”  
That did _not_ make it any better.

“What...” Jean cleared his throat when the word came out way too thin and shaky around the edges. “What do you mean … it’s still here?”

Hanji didn’t answer, just let their eyes drift over to him and cocked an eyebrow and yes, he did feel it. That … that presence starting to spread around them that made the hairs on his neck prickle upright, lingering electricity pulsing through the air. It was surprising and a little irritating but nothing about it seemed threatening and after a low moment Jean’s nervous heartbeat slowed down again.  
  
He let the breath shudder out of him as he carefully reached into the feeling, the low current running along his skin, but it was way too faint and elusive to read.  
“What is it?”, he asked, voice much more even and confident as he started to accept this turn of events. Not every spell or charm came out perfect and not every divination worked the way they wanted it to. Jean had learned the hard way that being a witch sometimes meant to improvise and he could do that. Especially with someone like Hanji to guide him through this.  
  
Hanji hummed. Still wearing that wide smile they shook their head in a slow, controlled motion. Careful, like they didn’t want to spook a wild animal. Without really meaning to Jean accepted the nudge of calm fed through the link they still kept up, muscles relaxing as he leaned back in his seat.  
“Not what, Jean”, Hanji then said, eyes round and sparking but voice low. “Who.”

“Who?”  
  
Was this what it felt like when he reached out and connected to them? Did they feel his presence as a spark on their tongue and a soft crackle on their skin as well? Or did he only notice because he was experienced with spiritual work and was attuned to these kind of energy shifts?  
  
“He must have felt your distress”, Hanji mumbled, more to themselves than to him. “Oh, I didn’t think we’d get this far today, that’s _fascinating_. Let me try...”  
With that they reached out to let their hand hover over the cards again, slowly moving along the circle and back, repeating the slow movement several times before their smile tipped into a grin.  
“He’s a clever one”, they smirked with a slight tip of their head, like they were acknowledging the visitor’s prowess. The presence around them seemed to pulse warmly in answer. “Very secretive. Careful. Won’t let me get a read on him.”  
  
Jean frowned. It wasn’t a coincidence that neither him nor Hanji could sense anything about the presence other than that it didn’t wish them any harm.   
“That means he’s pretty powerful, right? Being able to hide himself like that...”  
“Yes”, Hanji agreed somewhat breathless, face flushing with all the excitement they were trying to hold back. “Maybe … maybe he’s a medium or a mage or some sort of creature or, well, he could also be a witch but I’ve never met one as powerful as this. Oh, maybe he has his own set of werewolves … there really is no way to tell like this.”  
  
Just when Jean wanted to answer he felt a touch, a cool finger tracing the outline of one of his tattoos, the sigil that sat right between his shoulder blades, made by his mother to ward off evil spirits and malevolent forces.   
The feeling sent a shiver racing down his spine, every hair on his body standing on end as he twitched away from the touch with an embarrassing noise.   
  
Like that the presence dissipated, slowly but inevitably, until all that was left was a faint prickle of electricity on Jean’s tongue and then even that faded into nothingness.  
Hanji sighed, eyebrows drawn together regrettably but then they shrugged, slowly, carefully letting go of Jean’s hand and severing their connection. A sign that the session was over. Jean needed a moment to adjust to the lack of potent energy feeding into his cycle.  
“We wouldn’t have found out much else anyway...” There was still a trace of disappointment in the words and Jean felt himself crumble in on himself even as they pressed on.   
“Anyway, that should have given you a rich introduction and a lot of ideas how to practice on your on, which you should definitely do. It wouldn’t hurt though to meet up once in a while and do this again. I’m _very_ interested in your development in that area but I understand that this kind of energy work is very exhausting and then you still need to learn how to read the tarot, that takes a lot of time as well. Do you even have a set? Ah, you can have one of mine. But then again tarot really isn’t the only...”  
  
“Hanji”, Jean began but this time he didn’t interrupt them because they were rambling. No, he had an idea. “What would we have to do?”  
They just tilted their head to the side, blinking at him with confusion so he took a breath and started over.  
“You said it’s hard to tell who he is like this. Well, what would we have to do so we could tell?” It took another moment but then that grin started to spread across their face again and their body positively started to vibrate in the chair.   
  
“God Jean, you really do have your mother’s ambition! Marvellous! Well...” They chuckled. “As I said, he’s very powerful and we should not risk getting him on our bad side by pushing too far. But he might also be an interesting ally so, theoretically, to reach out to him and establish contact again, with the way he shrouded himself … I’d say we’d need a ritual of at least four witches and even then we’d have to power it up a lot. Definitely nothing we should rush but also … you’d be our key, so you need to learn to safely and reliantly open gateways first. Then it might be worth a try...”  
  
Jean nodded along, soaking up the information and conditions, already starting to plot. If some mirrored version of him from another universe could wield these kinds of powers, who was to say he couldn’t? That he wouldn’t be able to find this other Jean and learn from him?   
Jean smirked to himself. He really couldn’t ask for better motivation to practice than this.


	6. Thunder

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also posted on my tumblr: [fenfyre](https://fenfyre.tumblr.com/)

Jean could feel it long before anything even happened. That faint, electric crackle in the air, the hint of a metallic tang across his tongue. It was natural and powerful, like a storm brewing on the horizon.  
But the sky outside was a spotless powder blue, spanning the expanse of the surrounding fields, lush as they always were in early summer. A robin was sitting on the windowsill, trilling it’s tiny heart out.  
Jean doubted the feeling had anything to do with the weather.   
  
He tried to ignore it for a while and kept fixing breakfast instead, hands idly cutting up different fruits and reaching over to flip the pancakes or pour new batter into the cast-iron pan instead.   
His sensitivity had gone through the roof since they’d completed the bond and he’d received both their markings.   
He felt the tiniest shifts in their moods like they were his own, felt the way their powers waxed and waned with the lunar cycle, noticed their wants and needs before even they became aware of them.  
  
But he didn’t just become more sensitive in regard to his mates. All of a sudden he could feel _everything_. The subtle shifts and surges of energy in the land around him, how the earth pulsed and purred for him when he stepped onto his land, the distant call of the forest after he’d been absent for a while, the unique vibrations every plant in his garden was gifting him with. The murmur of the wind and the warmth of the sun feeding into his powers. The calming pull of the moon when it stood bright and beautiful in the night sky.   
Whenever Jean thought he might get used to the endless impressions he noticed something new, something raw and wonderful singing for his attention.   
  
In some ways it had made him a better witch, gifted him with a more thorough understanding of and connection to the energies he drew his powers from.   
But sometimes it became too much, too overpowering, breaking his concentration and making him mess up the easiest tasks.   
Which is why he put off the current running along his skin, the prickle on his tongue, and took care of breakfast instead, thinking about his mates still sleeping soundly upstairs. He could feel the slow, even pulse of their entwined beings, muted by sleep but still clear as day to him.  
  
It was only when the crackle drew closer, so close he could barely feel the  soothing hum of Marco’s energy or the soft, rhythmical drum of Eren’s, that Jean reached out to turn off the stove and dry his hands.   
  
He was at the door before the visitor had even knocked but still waited for the firm rap of knuckles on wood before he opened.  
  
She was a lightning storm.  
The most gorgeous woman Jean had ever seen, a vision backlit by the morning sun. Her cool, grey eyes regarded him for a long moment, made him feel awfully inadequate in nothing but his pyjama pants. He really should have taken the time to at least go grab a shirt or shrug on one of the jackets hanging from the coat rack nearby. Part of him wanted to reach for it but another part was whimpering at him to not move a muscle or he’d embarrass himself horribly.   
  
Her lips pursed for a split second before her expression feel flat again. There was a hardness to her features, something in the poise of her head that made her look regal and powerful, like she could destroy him without as much as a snap of her fingers.  
Something in Jean wanted to go that way.  
  
“I’m looking for my brother”, she finally said, voice calm and level and so smooth Jean felt himself flush. He wanted to answer, to say something, ask her who she was and what she wanted so he could give her everything and more, but when he opened his mouth his tongue was impossibly dry, throat croaking out an embarrassing sound so he pressed his lips together again, ready for the ground to swallow him up.  
  
Her sleek black hair bobbed slightly around her chin as she tilted her head to the side, squinting at him like she wondered how he could have possibly survived as long as he had.  
“Eren. Eren Jäger”, she repeated the name slowly, careful to pronounce every syllable so he could follow her. “I know he’s here.”  
This time Jean actually managed to say something, even if it was just a simple, hoarse “I … uhm...”  
  
Her brows furrowed with irritation before she rolled her eyes. He couldn’t do anything, not even protest, as she pushed him aside with a strength that wasn’t even surprising and entered the house.  
  
“H-hey!”, he called out and kicked the door shut before stumbling after her.

She hovered in the hallway for a moment, head held high and slowly turning from left to right, before she headed towards the stairs.   
“Wait a minute, that’s...”   
All he got was an annoyed glance over her shoulder, brow raised and eyes sharp, as she ascended. Jean didn’t know what to do except for following her with increased helplessness.  
  
If she had told him the truth and actually was Eren’s sister she looked nothing like him, her features sharp but elegant where his where stronger, and while they were both beautiful it was in rather different ways. Besides, Jean was pretty sure she was at least part Asian.   
And then there was that storm of an energy signature that he was still reeling from, struggling to adjust to her mere presence. Eren wasn’t like that at all, he was wild, yes, but not as mercilessly overwhelming, a whole different quality to the ebb and flow of his power.  
  
She found the bedroom with ease and opened the door without hesitation, her nose wrinkling as she stepped into the stuffy room that still smelled of the things they’d done here last night.  
Jean couldn’t help but smirk even as she invaded the most private parts of his house.  
  
His mates were still curled up on the bed, Marco’s broad body hugging Eren’s smaller one from behind, the sheets tangled around their naked, sleeping bodies. They looked peaceful, content, up until the point that Eren stirred and frowned in his sleep, shifting in Marco’s arms like he was drifting closer and closer towards consciousness.  
He didn’t get the chance to reach it himself when the woman grabbed the duvet and yanked at it with a dry “Wake up”.  
  
Eren twitched awake with a startled breath while Marco grumbled, squinting into the dimly lit room. Behind them the curtains were still drawn closed, mostly shutting out the morning light.  
“Mikasa?”, Eren mumbled, rubbing the sleep from his eyes with one hand while instinctively reaching out to clutch the blanket to his stomach, trying to keep himself covered. “What are you...”  
“Get dressed. We’re leaving.”  
  
Had her order been directed at Jean he’d have climbed out of bed immediately to do whatever she told him to, so he couldn’t feel anything but admiration when Eren just snorted at her words.  
“Are you crazy? Showing up here like...”  
“You haven’t been answering my phone calls for three weeks. I’ve been trying to reach you. For _three weeks_ , Eren. I can show up here however I damn well please.” Her anger was cold, crystalline and cutting, and it got Eren to finally push himself upright with a tired groan.  
  
“I’ve been busy”, he mumbled, ran a hand through his sleep-mussed hair until it caught in a tangle of knots at the back of his head.   
She huffed, her eyes scanning the room, the clothes strewn all over, the burnt candles and open bedside table drawers, the, oh god, empty condom wrappers on the floor.  
“I can see that”, she hissed.  
  
Behind Eren Marco sat up as well, taking a moment to stretch and yawn before he turned to her with a tired but no less warm smile.  
“Hey ‘kasa, dear”, he said, so soft and welcoming Jean wanted to climb back into bed next to Marco, even though the words weren’t even directed at him. His steady, familiar pulse was calming after the intensity of her electricity on his skin.  
“You look well. How’ve you been?”  
  
The sharpness of her expression softened slightly as Marco’s unwavering charm was turned towards her and she shrugged her slim shoulder.  
“Oh, you know, same old. Trying to get my insufferable brother to act like an adult.”  
Marco huffed a low laugh and gave a nod while Eren just grumbled.  
“I hear you. So, what’s up?”   
  
With no small amount of surprise Jean noted the familiar, almost loving way they talked, like they’d known each other for decades, like they had history together. He also noted that she actually did seem to be Eren’s sister, maybe in a figurative sense if not in a literal one, or else Marco would have protested. Interesting.   
And also disturbing. They’d known each other for almost three years and Jean hadn’t even known Eren had a sister. They’d always been pretty vague about their backgrounds, didn’t talk much about the pack they left long ago, but this, Jean felt like this was a detail they could have at least mentioned at one point or another. Had they been hiding it on purpose?  
  
“Eren”, her voice was sharp again, firmer as she turned back to her brother, ensuring she had his full attention before she continued.  
“They found your father.”  
  
~  
  
“I’m … sorry”, Jean mumbled, brows furrowed as he slowly sank down to sit on the edge of the bed. Traces of their hushed voices were drifting through the door to the balcony where they’d retreated to have a conversation in private. “She just came inside, I couldn’t do anything...”  
Marco gave a low hum, still sounding soft and tired as he slid closer, chest coming to rest against Jean’s back as he wrapped warm arms around his middle, chin on Jean’s shoulder.  
  
“No need to be sorry”, he rasped, somehow unfazed by whatever just went down in their bedroom. “Mikasa is, uh...”  
“Intense?”, Jean supplied which made Marco chuckle deeply. He melted back against the warm, firm body a little more.  
“Sure, yeah. That’s one way of putting it. She was also quite angry so I’m pretty sure nobody could’ve stopped her.”  
  
Jean huffed a laugh, absentmindedly tracing the shapes of Marco’s wrists and hands with his fingers.  
“I mean”, he began after a short pause. “I would be pissed too if I couldn’t reach either of you for three weeks.”   
Also worried. About a year ago there had been this full moon after which both his mates had gone missing for two whole days. Jean had been out of his mind with fear until they’d come back stumbling into his kitchen. They still hadn’t told him what the fuck happened and he quietly still hadn’t stopped wondering.  
  
Marco sighed, turned to nuzzle Jean’s neck soothingly.  
“Eren has a … rough relationship to most members of our former pack. There’s times he doesn’t want anything to do with them, sometimes goes months without allowing any contact. The few who still try, like Mikasa, are used to it by now. But … it’s bad when something urgent comes up.”  
“Something like lost fathers suddenly showing up again?”, Jean mumbled. He was so close to asking about it but the way Marco chose his words made it hard. Still so vague and careful. Like he wasn’t sure if this was the right time to tell Jean.   
  
Marco didn’t answer for a long while, the sound of hushed words and leaves rustling in the wind drifting in from the outside the only thing between them. Then he took a deep breath, squeezed Jean’s body a bit tighter.  
“He disappeared two or maybe three decades ago. You know, of all the bridges we burned when we left the pack, his was the worst. I’ve never seen Eren so angry. But still, when we got the news that his father was missing, presumed to be dead, it hit him so hard. I can’t … I have no idea what this will do to him.”  
  
Jean swallowed, fingers clasped tightly around Marco’s wrists. He wasn’t sure how many questions this answered and how many new ones it posed. Which of those he’d be allowed to ask and get an answer to.   
So Jean shook his head, decided to wait for now and turn to something else instead. Something that maybe wouldn’t confuse more than enlighten him.   
  
“And Mikasa?”, he asked, low and careful. “What … is she?” Because there was no way that powerful signature belonged to a human, no matter how much she looked like one. Eren and Marco looked human as well and were two of the most powerful creatures Jean had ever encountered, their pulsing bond reminding him of that fact every day.   
  
Marco shifted behind him, hummed what sounded like an amused noise. Jean’s brows furrowed.  
“You felt it, huh? You’re so amazing … her mother was a kitsune.”  
“Kitsune...”, Jean mumbled, trying to find the right drawer in his memory. That term did ring a bell but he wasn’t as well-versed on his east Asian mythology as he would have liked right now. Marco just nodded and went on to explain with the utmost patience that Jean has always adored about him.  
  
“A japanese yokai serving Inari, the goddess of fertility. They have a lot of powers and Mikasa inherited some of them, like shapeshifting and casting illusions. Eren’s father found her orphaned on a trip to Japan and took her in.”  
“Nice of him.”  
Marco just shrugged with a low, non-committal noise. So there was more to the story. Maybe it had to do with them leaving, with Eren’s anger towards his father. Maybe. Jean didn’t want to dig, not now that Eren and his sister had a hissed debate out on the balcony and Marco was holding him like he was the one needing to be comforted.   
He decided to lighten the mood instead.  
  
“Not gonna lie, I kinda want her to step on me.”  
The was an ugly snort as Marco tried to hold back his laughter, rubbed his temple against Jean’s jawline.  
“I noticed”, he grinned, scooting a little closer still. “You looked at her like she could kick your teeth in and you’d thank her.”  
“Accurate.”  
They snickered together for a moment or two. Then then balcony door was pushed open and Eren stepped inside, Mikasa following him closely.  
  
Without missing a beat Eren shrugged off the shirt he’d pulled on to talk to his sister, then stepped towards the drawer to pull out a new one he slipped into, then collected a handful more and stuffed them into a nearby backpack.  
“I need to go”, he said, voice betraying no emotion but hiy eyes were wild, his fingers trembling. “I’ll be back in a week, maybe...”   
  
Behind Jean Marco sighed softly, almost soundlessly, and moved to scoot off the bed and step into a pair of pants he found on the floor.   
Jean was too confused to appreciate his boyfriend going commando and instead went through the motions of finally reaching for a shirt himself. It was too big on his narrow shoulders and smelled too much of cinnamon and clover to not be Marco’s.   
  
Eren kept packing for a while, silent and tense, until he noticed his mates getting dressed.   
“What are you doing?”, he asked, frown deepening and fingers playing restlessly with the straps of the bag. With another sigh Marco stepped up to him but aborted the move to hug Eren when their boyfriend tensed even more at the prospect.  
“I’m coming with you”, Marco explained with a soothing voice, making it sound like the most obvious thing in the world, but Eren immediately narrowed his eyes, shook his head.   
“No. You don’t … you’re not going back. I won’t...”  
  
“Eren, you don’t need to protect me. I want to go.” Still calm and soothing but firmer this time, like he wouldn’t allow any objections. Eren only pulled back further, zipping up his back with an almost violent force.  
“This isn’t a discussion! He’s my father, I’m dealing with it and I don’t want you to...”  
  
“How about”, Jean tried, three pairs of eyes snapping over to glare at him, making him swallow nervously. “Nobody’s dealing with anything before breakfast. I made pancakes, we can take some time to talk?”  
  
Eren and Mikasa were reluctant at first, wanting to leave as soon as possible, but between Marco and himself they got the two of them ushered downstairs and into the kitchen after all, ignoring their grumbles to make them sit.   
The pancakes had gotten cold by now, the apple slices Jean cut earlier browned as well. He still fixed plates for all of them, piling pancakes and fruit and making sure to show off the darker sigils he’d painted into the pan before flooding it with batter a little later, inviting the calm and ease protection he hadn’t known they’d need as badly as they did today.  
  
While Jean prepared the food Marco worked around him, fixing up a pot of tea and two cups of coffee, one black, the other with no small amount of sugar, just the way Jean liked. They finished at about the same time and settled at the kitchen table.  
  
It was awkward, the quiet between them only interrupted by the clink of cutlery, the sounds of Marco pouring tea for himself and Mikasa, her head dipping gracefully as she accepted the steaming mug.  
Jean wanted to say something, anything really, but he couldn’t for the life of him think of any words that might ease Eren and their guest or make them shed more light on the situation. He wasn’t welcome, an intruder in his own house, and the very notion of it made him feel sick, then guilty for thinking he had any right to know what was going on in the first place.   
  
The three of them had more history together than he was ever likely to get with Eren and Marco. They were old and powerful and the problems within their pack were theirs to deal with. As sick as he was of all these secrets, big or small, he had no choice but to accept their privacy.  
Outside a breeze ruffled the leaves of his apple trees, a lonesome crow giving a weak caw as it sailed across the garden and towards the forest line.   
  
“Are you serious?” Mikasa’s voice broke the silence, a sharp edge hiding behind the bored tone. Jean felt his back straighten on pure instinct alone as he focus landed on him. “They’re bound to and living with you and you’re still throwing a tantrum because they didn’t give you a rundown of their entire existence yet?”  
Jean’s brows drew together as he tried to grasp her words, checking himself for any tells of what he’d been brooding over for the last few minutes. Then he noticed how the wind had picked up considerably, a handful of clouds gathering. Right.  
  
“I’m not throwing a...” But she just scoffed.  
“They’re wearing your emblem and eating your food, isn’t that enough for you? Get a grip, witch.” It had been a long while since someone had called him that with such obvious distaste, managing to make _shame_ flare in his chest with a single syllable. Beside him Marco shifted, obvious unease in the stiff movement, but before he could say anything Eren huffed.  
  
He didn’t look at his sister when he slammed his fork down onto the table, vibrant green eyes boring into Jean’s instead. There was anger burning in them but it wasn’t directed at Jean, probably not even at Mikasa.  
“I’ll tell you”, he said and his voice was calm and solid, calculating. “I’ll tell you everything. But...” There was a short pause, Eren’s eyes flicking between Jean and Marco as something softer entered his gaze. Something careful and almost pleading. Eren huffed again before looking down at his plate.  
  
“But not now. I need time to sort this. And I _need_ to do it alone. I’ll be back in a week and I promise we’ll talk about everything, just … just give me time.”  
Below the table Marco’s warm hand found his, squeezing it hard. His soothing pulse coaxed Jean away from feelings of guilt and shame.  
“Alright”, Marco said, so very soft. “We’ll be waiting for you.”  
It took Jean a moment or two but then he gave a nod, slow but decided. Maybe there was still a lot he didn’t know about their past but as long as he got signs like this, as long they were willing to open up in their own time, he’d take it. For them he’d take almost anything.


	7. How to Cleanse

When Eren rolled out of bed late in the afternoon and tapped over into the hallway to get a glass of water he was met with the sweet, flowery smell of Jean taking a bath.

It was familiar, distinctive. The heat of warm water fogging up the air, the aroma of different herbs and flowers and spices mingling with faint traces of Jean's very own smell, something light and powdery that got thicker and heavier, denser and woodier the closer he was. Like powdered sugar melting away to reveal almond and hazelnut and just a hint of sandalwood.

Eren could have identified the smell of his mate mingling with scented bath water from miles away, especially since he got to enjoy it this often. Long baths were part of Jean's personal brand of witchcraft. He indulged in them as often as he could, using them to cleanse or recharge or ground, whatever he felt he needed most in that moment.

And even out of the bathroom he worked on his bath magic when he created all kinds of tinctures and salt mixtures, pressing bath bombs and blending fragrant oils to help him during his bathing rituals.

This time the smell was sweet and light, mostly floral, which meant it was most likely some softer kind of ritual, maybe some cleansing after the intense week he'd had energy wise. Or maybe he was manifesting some minor spell, well wishes for them or himself, sending out good energy to his coven.

Eren stalked down the hallway, careful to keep quiet and not disturb Jean during his ritual. When he was close enough he noticed why the whole hallway had smelled of whatever Jean had put into the hot water: The door to the bathroom was halfway open and in the frame stood Marco, one shoulder casually leaning against the wood and arms crossed as he watched whatever happened inside.

Still silent as a mouse Eren creeper closer, touching a careful hand against Marco's back to let him know he was there. Even though he was pretty sure his mate had felt him coming the second he'd gotten out of bed.

As soon as he could he peered over Marco's shoulder and into the bathroom and what he found was a scene right out of some beautifully dramatic movie. Jean always liked to go all out when he was pampering himself and his frequent bath rituals were the cherry on top of that habit.

There were candles scattered all across the bathroom, thick wide ones all over the floor while thinner ones were perched on various cabinets, the windowsill and sink. A few were even floating in the air, slowly bobbing up and down in an almost hypnotic rhythm.

It was a testament to Jean's newfound powers that he could casually extend that energy while he was doing other work just to be dramatic. Just because it looked nice and made him feel fancy.

But his flair for dramatic beauty didn't end there. Crystals were lined at the rim of the ample tub complete with brassy clawed feet, different kinds of quartz and other stones Eren couldn't identify. Those were mostly there to help Jean guide and store energy, Eren knew that by now, but of course they also just looked pretty, glinting in the light of dozens of candles.

On the bathwater itself there were flowers, tiny blossoms of camomile, twigs of lavender and deep red rose petals bobbing on the surface between patches of small, iridescent bubbles.

A big, steaming mug of tea was perched on a small side table, the spoon sticking out of it stirring lazily without even being touched.

The leaves of the ivy plant growing from a big pot on the windowsill almost all the way across the walls of the bathroom were swaying softly even though there was no noticeable breeze.

The scene was completed by quiet music drifting through the humid air, some orchestral piece or another, slow and beautiful and endlessly serene.

Jean himself was leaning back in the tub with his eyes closed, one hand hanging from the edge, fingers moving slowly and thoughtfully like he was plucking the strings of an invisible harp.

"Wow", Eren breathed once he'd taking his time to let that scene unfold in front of him. Marco nodded with a low hum, quiet enough to not alert Jean to their presence.

"Beautiful, isn't he?"

Eren couldn't deny that. He'd always found Jean's passion in his craft admirable, even though he'd never quite gotten how invested his mate was in the aesthetic parts on top of the practical ones.

But whenever he found his witch kneeling in some elaborate circle, working on the beautifully written and gorgeously painted pages of his grimoire or, like now, relaxing into the fragrant waters of yet another ritual bath, surrounded by relics and decorations that had just as much been hand picked for their beauty, not just for their practical purpose ... it still took his breath away every time.

"Gorgeous", he agreed with a nod, greedily drinking in the picture in front of them. Jean so relaxed and serene, recharging after all the hard work of the week. Just leaning back to let the hot water soothe his muscles, breathing deeply and ... moaning?

Eren furrowed his brows, thought he'd mistaken some sound in the quiet music for a moan but then it happened again and this time it was more obvious. A heated sigh drifting through the charged air of the warm bathroom.

Marco's head turned slightly so he could glance back at Eren, one eyebrow raised just slightly. So he'd heard it, too.

Eren shrugged, eyes flicking back over to the bath tub when he noticed movement, slow and accompanied by the quiet sloshing of water. Jean was sinking deeper into the tub, one of his legs bending so that his knee broke the surface of the infused water, shimmering droplets rolling down the smooth skin of his thigh.

His arm shifted, hand hidden under the surface but it was still fairly obvious what he was doing. especially when he canted his hips up and let out another low, indulgent noise. A sound between a heady sigh and a moan, beautiful and tempting like a siren's call.

Eren felt himself move before he'd even made a conscious decision, taking a step forward only to bump into Marco's suddenly outstretched arm holding him back. Head whipping around to stare at his mate in pure disbelief and maybe some betrayal he only saw Marco shake his head, lips digging into his plush lower lip, eyes practically glued to the scene unfolding right in front of them.

"Wait", he whispered, obviously under the same spell Eren was, even though he reacted differently to it. But Marco had always been one to wait and observe whereas Eren preferred rushing in over anything else. Maybe it was a good thing for his mate to hold him back from time to time.

Maybe without Marco's intervention he wouldn't have seen Jean tip back his head to bare his throat, lips parting around a lingering moan, low and gorgeous. The flickering candle light made his porcelain skin glow, painting dancing shadows across his flushed cheeks.

Eren didn't know if the enticing blush came from the heat of the bath water, steam still curling up from the surface, or if it were Jean's own fingers colouring his face in pretty shades of pink.

Another moan, a quick, clever tongue flicking out to wet his bottom lip, spit glistening in the low light. Jean's leg twitched, body trembling and causing waves to ripple across the water, rose petals and flowers bobbing up and down as he pulled his bent knee up higher. High enough to have his bony ankle and foot emerge, water dripping from his skin to quietly patter back into the tub.

With another quiet sigh Jean placed his heel on the edge of the tub, slipping at first but soon finding some purchase, some leverage.

Eren's fingers were twitching. He wanted so badly to grab the soft, warm skin revealed for them. Warm enough to have hot steam rise from Jean's bent leg, from the enticing inside of his creamy thigh, falling open easily and without shame.

Jean moved his arm, rolled his hips up and let out a hot, needy noise that dropped deep into Eren's abdomen to wander into his cock. The whole scene seemed lifted straight from his wet dreams. His gorgeous, talented mate slowly fingering himself surrounded by all the beauty and magic that made him who he was...

Eren twitched forward again but this time reigned himself in without first bumping against Marco's arm.

"Fuck", he cursed under his breath and earned a soundless nod from Marco who was starting to look pretty flushed himself, cheeks heating up the longer they watched their cute witch play with himself. Eren had a suspicion were he to reach into Marco's pants just this moment he'd have found his mate at least half hard.

But who wouldn't be, witnessing something as delicately beautiful and endlessly sexy as this?

Hand shifting below the surface Jean made himself moan again, louder and hotter than before, his whole body trembling and his still wet foot slipping on the rim of the tub. He dislodged a big crystal from its designated spot hard enough to tip it over the edge.

Eren was already flinching but before he heard the sound of it hitting the ground to splinter and break apart Jean raised the hand that had been hanging from the side of the tub, lazily plucking air.

A moment later the crystal reappeared, slowly floating up from behind the tub. It was glistening beautifully in the flickering candle light, coming to float over the water close to Jean's face who swallowed and slowly opened his eyes. It seemed like he was waking from some kind of trance, blinking a few times before his gaze focused on the crystal floating before him.

He studied it closely for a moment, head tipping to the side like he was trying to read the answers to the universes most pressing questions from between the glistening edges. Then he hummed and shifted in the tub, the hand that had been so busy the moment before breaching the water's surface to reach for the crystal, plucking it from the air like a crisp, ripe apple.

"You know I've noticed you, right?", he hummed, voice smooth and clear as he let his heel slip away from the edge of the tub and carefully lowered his foot back into the steaming water, submerging his ankle, his calf, until only the tip of his slightly bent knee still breached the water.

He placed the crystal aside, right onto its assigned spot, before his gaze flicked over to the door. In the low light of the flickering candles and through the steam in the air his eyes seemed to gleam and glow, shimmering like embers. Eren had to swallow, throat feeling very dry all of a sudden.

He wasn't used to this yet.

Jean being this attuned, this in control of his ever broadening powers was a force to be reckoned with and even though Eren loved seeing his mate this confident, this at ease, it was still a bit like staring straight into the sun. Blinding and awe-inspiring.

Marco was smoother, if only slightly.

"So that's what you do when you tell us you need to cleanse", he smirked but there was a waver to his voice. Hot arousal.

Jean directed a cutting smirk at them, lowering a hand to draw patterns into the still surface of the water. Sigils, maybe? He was absolutely in his element and he revelled in it, no shred of uncertainty in his entire body.

"You have no idea how cleansing a good orgasm can be..."

Eren swallowed again, the low, lilting words doing things to him he couldn't quite explain. Next to him Marco shuddered as well, sucking on his lower lip before releasing it with a quiet noise.

"We don't", he agreed, shaking his head softly. "You should show us..."

That made Jean laugh, airy and carefree and so beautiful. The leaves of the ivy twining along the walls swayed up and down like they were snickering with him. Eren shuddered, it was a nice feeling.

"I suppose I should."

**Author's Note:**

> Also posted on my tumblr: [fenfyre](https://fenfyre.tumblr.com/)


End file.
